ll^iiiS'-: 


GREAT  MYSTERY 
SOLVED 


\  Continuation  of  Dickens' 
..ED,,,,x,    ™r^r,» 


M»ii!  *»!>•••  :;  11  IH  tiiti'iHilnit 

liijlllillj 


I    u 


.LAN  VASE 


II! 


A  GREAT  MYSTERY   SOLVED 


A   GREAT 
MYSTERY    SOLVED 


BEING  A    CONTINUATION    OF    AND    CONCLUSION    TO 

"THE  MYSTERY  OF  EDWIN   DROOD" 

(THE  UNFINISHED  WORK  OF  CHARLI:S  DICKEKS) 


BY" 

GILLAN    VASE 


EDITED    BY 

SHIRLEY    BYRON    JEVONS 


NEW    YORK 

Mc  BRIDE,    NAST    &     COMPANY 

1914 


PS  3M9 
46 

914. 


EDITOR'S    NOTE 

THE  fate  of  Edwin  Drood,  the  last  of  Charles  Dickens' 
creations,  has  exercised  the  minds  of  not  a  few  literary 
men  of  eminence.  The  best  of  them  could  but  guess  ; 
and  which  has  gone  nearest  will  never  be  known.  They 
were  content  to  suggest  the  answer  without  troubling 
to  work  it  out  in  detail  as  a  continuation  and  finish 
of  the  story.  This  more  difficult  task  was  undertaken 
by  "  Gillan  Vase,"  whose  luxuriant  imagination 
led  her  not  only  to  follow  up  the  destinies  of  the 
characters  which  we  owe  in  their  inception  to  Dickens, 
but  also  to  create  several  others. 

As  rather  detracting  from  the  value  of  a  sequel 
in  which  it  seemed  desirable  that  only  known  Dickens- 
ian  characters  should  appear,  these  new  ones  have 
been  eliminated.  The  completion  of  the  original 
story,  the  spirit  and  diction  of  which  are,  it  is  thought, 
pretty  closely  imitated,  is  now  offered  as  an  ingenious 
and  probable  solution  of  the  mystery. 


331063 


"THE    MYSTERY    OF    EDWIN    DROOD 

(SUMMARISED) 


IN  Cloisterham,  an  English  Cathedral  town,  the  Dean 
was  the  most  important  personage,  though  Mr.  Sapsea, 
mayor  and  auctioneer  of  the  city,  had  doubts  on  the 
point.  By  strangers  the  one  might  be  mistaken  for 
the  other,  Mr.  Sapsea,  in  dress  and  dignity  of  bearing, 
paying  Mr.  Dean  the  compliment  of  the  sincerest  form 
of  flattery.  He  was  more  clerical  indeed  than  the 
clergy,  and  the  monument  he  had  raised  to  his  late 
wife  testified  to  some  of  the  admirable  qualities  which 
in  him  inhered.  The  most  charming  little  person  the 
city  could  boast  was  Miss  Rosa  Bud,  who  was  being 
harboured  at  the  scholastic  establishment  of  Miss 
Twinkleton,  preparatory  to  her  approaching  marriage 
with  Mr.  Edwin  Drood,  to  whom  she  had,  in  a  sort  of 
way,  been  betrothed  almost  since  childhood.  That 
rather  supercilious  young  gentleman  took  the  prospect 
of  his  future  happiness  very  much  as  a  matter  of 
course,  a  lofty  state  of  the  adolescent  masculine  mind 
which  the  lad  did  not  try  to  hide  from  his  dour,  if  loving, 
uncle,  Mr.  John  Jasper,  a  man  only  a  few  years  older 
than  he,  the  relationship  notwithstanding,  and  choir 
master  of  the  Cathedral,  his  fine  voice  being  not  the 
least  attractive  part  of  the  services.  Within  the 
Close  lived  the  Reverend  Septimus  Crisparkle,  a  Minor 


viii    "THE  MYSTERY  OF  EDWIN  DROOD" 

Canon,  whose  tiny,  timid  mother  kept  house  for  him 
there,  and  was  as  dainty  as  a  little  china  shepherdess, 
a  figure  which  she  oddly  suggested.  Very  proud  was 
she  of  her  seventh  and  only  surviving  son,  and  he, 
in  his  stalwart  manhood,  no  less  so  of  his  frail  little  ma. 

It  takes  all  sorts  to  make  a  world,  and  in  the  small 
one  of  the  Cathedral  and  its  precincts  Durdles,  the 
drunken  stonemason,  was  fairly  conspicuous,  with  his 
dinner  bundled  into  a  handkerchief  and  carried  about 
all  day  and  every  day.  A  satellite  of  his  was  Deputy, 
a  hideous  small  lad  employed  at  a  common  lodging- 
house,  whom  he  had  hired  to  pelt  him  home  with  stones 
in  case  he  was  out  too  late  in  his  cups,  the  bargain  being 
that  first  he  was  to  have  a  "  widdy  widdy  warning  " 
in  the  form  of  some  doggerel  verse.  Durdles  always 
spoke  of  himself  in  the  third  person,  and  his  hobby  was 
to  go  about  tapping  tombs  and  walls  with  his  hammer, 
the  answering  sound  telling  him  many  things  dulled 
to  less  sensitive  ears.  Even  in  sleepy  Cloisterham 
events  out  of  the  common  would  happen  occasionally, 
such  as  the  arrival  from  Ceylon  of  Neville  and  Helena 
Landless,  brother  and  sister,  orphaned  and  of  neglected 
up-bringing,  so  that  the  girl  was  to  go  to  Miss  Twinkle- 
ton  and  the  youth  to  Mr.  Crisparkle,  for  the  bettering 
of  their  education.  Both  were  dark  and  remarkably 
handsome,  and  both  had  been  hurt  to  the  soul  by  the 
harsh  treatment  of  a  conscienceless  step-father. 

Edwin  and  Neville  met,  and  a  mutual  dislike  was 
not  long  in  manifesting  itself.  The  newcomer  resented 
Drood's  cavalier  treatment  of  Rosa,  with  whom  he 
himself  was  at  sight  in  love.  At  a  meeting  brought 
about  by  John  Jasper,  with  the  avowed  idea  of  a  recon 
ciliation,  high  words  passed  between  the  young  fellows, 
and  Neville  drank  more  than  was  good  for  him.  Jasper 


"  THE  MYSTERY  OF  EDWIN   DROOD  "     ix 

maladroitly  or  maliciously  foments  the  quarrel  while 
trying  to  smooth  it  over.  Neville  flings  the  dregs  of 
a  glass  of  wine  in  Drood's  face,  and  leaves  the  room 
in  a  rage,  after  Jasper  has  parted  them.  Later  Mr. 
Crisparkle  brings  about  the  reconciliation  between 
the  two,  and  to  mark  it  the  choir-master  for  Christmas 
Eve  invites  them  to  supper.  In  his  diary  he  has 
entered  an  account  of  the  quarrel,  which  makes  it 
look  black  against  the  passionate  Neville.  One  night 
before  Yuletide,  Jasper  gets  Durdles  to  show  him 
over  the  Cathedral,  from  the  crypt  to  the  top  of  the 
tower,  by  lantern  light,  for  the  satisfaction  of  his 
archaeological  bent.  On  their  way  thither  they  pass 
a  mound  of  stuff  which  the  choir-master  is  warned 
against  treading  on,  as  it  is  quicklime,  which  eats 
up  anything  brought  into  contact  with  it.  Jasper  has 
brought  with  him  a  bottle,  which  his  companion  is 
encouraged  to  pay  attention  to,  and,  nothing  loath, 
the  stonemason  presently  feels  the  need  of  "  forty 
winks."  Jasper  volunteers  to  stay  by  him  while  they 
are  taken,  but  it  happens  that  the  clock  is  striking  two 
in  the  morning  when  he  is  aroused,  so  that  he  must 
have  slept  a  couple  of  hours.  Before  the  evening  of 
the  supper,  Rosa  and  Edwin  have  met  and  agreed 
that  the  idea  of  their  marriage  was  a  mistake.  Let 
them  be  as  brother  and  sister  to  each  other. 

Landless  has  it  in  mind  to  start  off  on  a  walking 
tour  on  Christmas  Day,  and  to  be  away  for  a  fortnight. 
He  carries  out  the  intention,  but  does  not  get  far  on 
his  way  when  he  is  overtaken,  surrounded  and  captured 
by  a  small  body  of  men,  after  a  struggle  in  which  he 
uses  his  heavy  stick  freely  and  cracks  a  skull  or  two. 
The  stupid  fellows  have  given  no  intimation  of  the  fact 
that  they  are  not  footpads  but  acting  with  authority, 


x      "  THE  MYSTERY  OF  EDWIN  DROOD  " 

as  Edwin  Drood  has  disappeared  and  foul  play  is 
suspected  on  the  part  of  Neville,  with  whom  he  was 
last  seen  leaving  Jasper's  lodgings  in  the  Gate  House 
and  going  towards  the  tidal  river  that  runs  through 
Cloisterham.  The  sapient  Mayor  is  half  inclined  to 
commit  him  to  prison,  but  Mr.  Crisparkle's  indignant 
protest  and  his  promise  to  be  answerable  for  Neville's 
appearance  when  required  bring  saner  counsel. 
Mr.  Grewgious,  a  receiver  and  collector  of  rents, 
living  and  having  his  office  in  Staple  Inn,  London, 
is  Rosa's  guardian,  and  devoted  to  her  for  her  dead 
mother's  sake,  whom  he  had  loved  and  hoped  to  make 
his  wife,  but  another  man  had  been  luckier  than  he, 
winning  her.  From  him,  widowed  and  on  his  death 
bed,  Mr.  Grewgious  had  received  her  betrothal  ring, 
and  this  he  had  given  Edwin,  with  some  fatherly 
advice  on  the  seriousness  of  the  step  he  and  Rosa  were 
about  to  take,  a  little  while  before  they  came  to  the 
decision  that,  in  fact,  it  was  too  serious  for  them  to 
venture  on.  He  had  been  told  of  this,  and  hurrying 
down  to  Cloisterham  on  the  news  of  Edwin's  disappear 
ance,  he  seeks  out  and  informs  Jasper  of  the  broken 
engagement,  whereupon  the  choir-master  gasps,  open- 
mouthed,  and  falls  down  in  a  fit.  Grewgious  suspects 
him  of  being  in  love  with  Rosa,  and  maybe  of  much 
worse.  Meanwhile,  diligent  but  vain  search  has  been 
made  for  Edwin  Drood' s  body  ;  the  people  of  Cloister- 
ham  have  jumped  to  the  illogical  conclusion  that 
Landless  is  guilty,  and  to  avoid  the  torture  of  their 
accusing  eyes,  he  and  his  sister  move  to  London,  taking 
up  their  quarters  in  Staple  Inn,  near  Mr.  Grewgious, 
another  neighbour  being  a  retired  naval  lieutenant, 
Mr.  Tartar,  between  whom  and  Neville  an  acquaintance 
is  struck  up.  Meanwhile,  at  Cloisterham,  Jasper  has 


"THE  MYSTERY  OF  EDWIN  DROOD "    xi 

openly  and  violently  declared  his  love  to  Rosa,  who, 
greatly  alarmed,  flies  to  Mr.  Grewgious  for  protection. 
He  receives  her  with  warm  affection  and  comforting 
assurances  of  help  and  safeguard,  puts  her  up  for  a 
night  at  Furnival's  Inn  Hotel,  and  presently  establishes 
her  in  Bloomsbury  lodgings,  with  Miss  Twinkleton  as 
chaperon,  at  a  Mrs.  Billickin's,  a  terror  of  a  woman, 
as  the  school-mistress  soon  finds  out.  That  Mr.  Tartar 
feels  a  tender  regard  for  the  sweetly  fascinating  Miss 
Rosa  Bud  presently  appears,  as  also  that  Crisparkle 
is  in  love  with  Helena  Landless.  At  Cloisterham  has 
arrived  a  Mr.  Datchery,  who  takes  up  his  residence 
at  the  Gate  House,  with  Mrs.  Tope,  John  Jasper's 
landlady.  Whoever  he  may  be,  he  is  disguised  by  a 
shock  of  white  hair  and  other  means,  and  he  has  a  habit 
of  chalking  on  the  inside  of  a  cupboard  door  certain 
marks  which  indicate  the  progress  he  makes  from  day 
to  day  in  the  work  of  investigation  into  the  Edwin 
Drood  mystery. 

The  opening  chapter  of  the  book  describes  a  scene 
in  an  East  End  opium  den,  from  which  a  wreck  of  a 
man  creeps  in  the  early  morning.  It  is  kept  by  a 
hag  who  has  listened  without  learning  much  to  the 
mutterings  of  this  customer,  as  he  lies  in  a  half  stupor 
from  the  effects  of  the  drug.  The  last  chapter  tells  of 
a  visit  stealthily  paid  to  this  den  by  the  choir-master, 
so  that  there  is  little  doubt  that  he  was  the  visitor 
of  whom  we  read  in  the  first.  At  this  point  the 
unfinished  story  halts. 

S.  B.  JEVONS. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I.  Two   BREAKFASTS   IN   CLOISTERHAM 

II.  MR.  GREWGIOUS'S  NEW  CLERK 

III.  INSIDE  THE  BILLICKIN'S  . 

IV.  A  SELFISH  PROPOSAL 
V.  EDDY'S  WIDOW    .  . 

VI.  MOTHER  COOMBS  HAS  A  VISITOR 

VII.  THE  DEAD  AND  THE  QUICK 

VIII.  A  DAY  UPON  THE  WATER     '  . 

IX.  THE  PLACE  is  HAUNTED  ! 

X.  THE  MAYOR  UNDER  A  CLOUD 

XI.  Two  BIRDS  OF  NIGHT     ;  . 

XII.  THE  PURSUIT  OF  ROSA    . 

XIII.  ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  . 

XIV.  JOURNEYS  END  IN  LOVERS'  MEETING 
XV.  A  BRUTAL  SUITOR  .... 

XVI.  "  THE  SECRET  OF  THE  GRAVE  " 

XVII.  A  DOUBLE  RESURRECTION 

XVIII.  IN  WHICH  MR.  CRISPARKLE  READS  A 

LONG  MANUSCRIPT 

XIX.  CODDLER  AND  HlS  MISSION 

XX.  EDWIN  AND  ROSA  .... 

XXI.  THE  PASSING  OF  NEVILLE 

XXII.  EDWIN'S  FAREWELL 

XXIII.  WHERE     EAST    AND     WEST    COME 
TOGETHER 


PAGE 

I 

15 
32 

43 
58 
67 
80 


107 

112 
124 
136 
151 

155 

179 

215 

229 

255 
258 

273 

284 

289 


A  GREAT  MYSTERY  SOLVED 


A    GREAT    MYSTERY    SOLVED 

CHAPTER    I 

TWO     BREAKFASTS     IN     CLOISTERHAM 

SERVICE  is  over — the  early  morning  service  in  the 
old  Cathedral  of  the  ancient  city  of  Cloisterham,  and 
the  few  who  have  composed  the  small  congregation 
are  rapidly  dispersing  in  various  directions,  when  one 
of  the  Minor  Canons,  Mr.  Crisparkle,  stumbles  over 
something  lying  crouched  upon  the  ground  at  his  feet  ; 
and  saving  himself  with  a  start  from  the  imminent 
danger  of  falling  forward  on  his  face,  nearly  goes 
to  the  other  extreme  of  falling  on  his  back. 

Now  for  one  who  prides  himself — and  with  reason — 
on  the  keenness  of  his  vision,  such  a  mishap,  barely 
averted,  is  trying,  to  say  the  least ;  and  when  further 
aggravated  by  the  cause,  which  grins  up  at  you, 
delighted  at  your  discomfiture,  raising,  at  the  same 
time,  a  stone  threateningly,  is  very  trying.  The  Minor 
Canon  has  a  fine  temper,  but  he  says,  sternly — • 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  and  what  do  you  mean 
by  lying  right  in  my  way  like  that  ?  " 

"  What  I'm  a  doin'  here  ?  "  says  the  ragged  urchin, 
who  calls  himself  Deputy  ;  "a  purty  question  that, 
for  a  clergyman  and  a  minor  canon !  Hain't  I  as  much 
right  to  go  to  the  Kinfreederal  as  you  yourself  ?  What 
do  you  mean  by  a  falling  over  me,  and  a  kickin'  my 
shins,  without  so  much  as  a  widdy  warning  ?  I'm 
man-servant  in  attendance  on  Her  Royal  'Ighness,  the 
Princess  Puffer,  and  I'm  a  waiting  here  fur  to  conduct 
her  'ome." 


2  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

And  Deputy,  sharp-eyed  and  fleet  of  foot,  slips  past 
Mr.  Crisparkle,  and  disappears  round  a  corner,  where 
a  miserably-attired  and  trembling  old  woman  has 
preceded  him. 

Mr.  Crisparkle,  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes, 
arrives  at  the  cosy  home,  upon  the  threshold  of  which 
he  is  accustomed  to  throw  away  all  disagreeable 
thoughts.  There  he  calls  up  a  smile  to  his  lips,  assumes 
his  usually  elastic  tread,  and,  humming  a  portion  of 
the  anthem  so  beautifully  sung  that  morning  by  Mr. 
Jasper,  the  choir-master,  and  his  choir,  softly  opens 
the  dining-room  door,  whereupon  his  nose  is  welcomed 
by  a  mixture  of  Mocha,  rasher  and  chop  perfume, 
deliciously  blended  ;  and  he  himself  by  a  charming 
little  old  lady,  daintily  attired  as  a  china  shepherdess, 
and  radiant  to  behold.  After  an  affectionate  saluta 
tion  of  her,  he  sits  down  and  attacks  his  breakfast 
with  a  good  appetite.  She  watches  him  for  a  while, 
and  then  says — 

"  Septimus,  tell  me  what  has  happened  to  vex  you ; 
for  that  something  has,  even  my  old  eyes  are  still  sharp 
enough  to  see.  You  brought  a  load  upon  your  heart 
home  from  London.  You  took  that  load  with  you  to 
the  Cathedral,  and  you  haven't  left  it  there,  in  spite 
of  your  singing  and  your  brisk  step.  From  your  earliest 
infancy,  your  mind  was  always  an  open  book  for  me  ; 
don't,  don't  shut  it  now." 

Here  the  old  lady's  voice  falters,  and  the  tears  rise 
to  her  bright  eyes.  A  short  pause,  and  the  son  slowly 
and  hesitatingly  speaks— 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  you  would  be  the  first  I 
should  open  my  heart  to  on  any  and  every  occasion  ; 
and  if  on  this  one  point  I  have  kept  it  closed,  it  is 
because,  unfortunately,  you  and  I  differ  very  much 
about  it." 

The  old  lady  rises,  rings  the  bell,  paces  up  and  down 
the  room  in  a  hurried  and  nervous  manner  while  the 
neat  maid-servant  clears  away  the  things.  Then, 


TWO    BREAKFASTS  3 

drawing  a  chair  close  to  her  son,  and  seating  herself, 
she  fixes  her  bright  eyes  keenly  upon  his  troubled  face, 
and  speaks  to  this  effect— 

"  Now  that  the  plunge  is  made,  and  the  ice  broken, 
Sept,  let  me  hear  the  whole.  I  don't  agree  with  you, 
and  I  tell  you  so  beforehand  ;  I  do  differ  from  you, 
and  you  may  as  well  know  it  to  begin  with  ;  but  your 
troubles  are  my  troubles,  and  your  fears  and  anxieties 
must  be  mine,  too.  You  have  been  to  see  Mr.  Neville  ? ' ' 
"  I  have,  ma." 

"  And  you  visit  him  every  time  you  go  to  London  ?  " 
"  Certainly  I  do,"  says  the  Minor  Canon,  and  his 
troubled  face  becomes  suddenly  illuminated  with  a 
proud,  exultant  smile,  which  vanishes,  however, 
immediately,  though  not  before  the  anxious,  scrutinis 
ing  eyes  of  his  mother  have  seized  upon  it  and  stored 
it  up  for  future  and  careful  examination.  "  Certainly, 
ma  ;  it  is  all  I  can  do  for  him  now,  poor  fellow  !  But 
you  must  not  imagine  that  my  troubled  thoughts 
came  from  him.  It  would,  indeed,  be  impossible 
to  meet  him  and  his  sister  unmoved  ;  to  see  how 
patiently  they  bear  an  affliction,  so  great,  so  terrible, 
that  it  would  be  no  wonder  if  they  sank  under  it. 
I  often  preach  them  patience  and  endurance,  but  I  do 
not  believe,  put  to  the  proof,  I  myself  should  practise 
the  half  of  it.  To  think  of  their  being  driven  away, 
outcasts  from  the  only  friends  who  love  them  ;  watched, 
and  harassed,  and  threatened  darkly  by  a  foe,  who  will 
not  meet  them  face  to  face.  And  to  bear  all  this  and 
be  innocent — -for,  upon  my  soul,  the  lad  is  innocent ! — 
is  it  not  enough  to  drive  them  to  despair  ?  And  yet, 
all  the  gold  in  that  boy's  nature  is  being  ten  times 
refined  in  the  fiery  furnace  of  affliction,  and  as  for  his 
sister- 
Here  a  radiant  smile  appears  on  the  lips  of  the  Minor 
Canon,  and  brightens  his  eyes  ;  but  it  is  lost  on  his 
mother,  whose  own  eyes  are  cast  down  and  clouded 
by  thickly-falling  tears.  She  quickly  wipes  them  away, 


4  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

and  not  to  expose  herself  to  the  bare  supposition  of 
having  changed  her  mind,  says — 

"  Then  what  is  the  reason  of  your  being  so  sad  and 
troubled  and  so  unlike  yourself,  since  it  is  not  that  ?  " 

"  A  horrible  suspicion  has  sprung  up  in  my  mind ; 
a  suspicion  so  horrible  that,  without  proof  to  confirm 
it,  it  would  be  a  sin  to  utter  it,  even  to  you.  It  seems 
a  sin  to  have  conceived  it,  and  yet  it  suddenly  came 
to  me,  almost  like  an  inspiration,  and  having  come, 
seemed  to  be  the  result  of  reasoning,  which  my  mind 
had  been  carrying  on  unconsciously  for  months. 
God  grant  I  may  be  wrong,"  adds  the  Minor  Canon, 
rising  and  shaking  himself,  as  if  to  be  rid  of  these 
melancholy  thoughts.  Then,  catching  a  glimpse  of 
his  mother's  anxious  face — 

"  I  must  take  a  run  in  the  fresh  air.  You  see  I  have 
my  fits,  as  well  as  other  people  ;  but  I  know  a  cure — 
a  fresh  air  cure.  I  shall  come  back  in  half  an  hour 
as  fresh  as  a  bee,  '  gathering  honey  from  every  opening 
flower/  ' 

Humming  cheerfully,  to  complete  the  metaphor, 
the  Rev.  Septimus  is  in  full  trot,  leaving  her  looking 
wistfully  after  him  from  the  doorstep. 


The  Very  Revd.  the  Dean  was  both  surprised  and 
perplexed,  though,  as  he  declared  to  Mrs.  Dean — 

"  Not  quite  so  surprised,  as  perplexed,  perplexed. 
For,  my  dear,  how  are  we  in  so  short  a  time,  to  find  a 
substitute  ?  And  even  with  time  before  us,  such  a 
choir-master  is  not  so  easily  to  be  found  again  ;  such 
voice  !  such  expression  !  so  attentive  too,  and  punctual 
in  attendance — in  short,  in  every  respect  so  unexcep 
tional.  A  sad  calamity  for  a  man,  though,  a  very  sad 
calamity  !  " 

Now  that  the  Dean  comes  to  think  of  it,  he  is  not 
surprised  at  all  that  Mr.  Jasper  should  wish  to  give 
up  his  situation  as  choir-master,  and  go  to  London, 


TWO    BREAKFASTS  5 

He  had  declared  that  he  could  not  remain  any  longer 
in  Cloisterham  ;  the  very  air  he  breathed  there,  every 
note  he  sung  there,  every  corner  in  the  town,  and  every 
nook  in  the  Cathedral,  reminded  him — here  he  had 
choked  and  become  deadly  pale  ;  but  the  Dean  had 
understood  him  ;  yes,  the  Dean  had  understood  him 
perfectly,  and  had  felt  for  him  deeply  ;  poor  man  ! 
poor  man  !  His  salary  was  not  the  object  to  him  it 
had  been ;  the  lawyer  from  London  had  communicated 
with  him,  and  informed  him  that  certain  moneys, 
which  would  have  been  handed  over  to  his  lost  nephew 
on  his  coming  of  age — the  words  brought  out  in  a 
spasmodic  way,  and  with  the  same  deadly  paleness — 
were  at  his  disposal,  as  the  only  near  relative.  He  had 
begged  the  Dean  as  a  personal  favour  to  supply  his 
place  as  soon  as  possible,  and  of  course  the  Dean  could 
not  refuse  him  ;  though,  as  he  said  before,  "  he  was 
grieved  to  part  with  him,  grieved  and  perplexed." 

Thus  the  Dean,  sitting  cosily  with  Mrs.  Dean,  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening,  in  the  verandah  at  the  back 
of  the  Deanery,  and  speaking  in  that  tone  of  lazy, 
cheerful  discontent,  becoming  and  natural  to  an  after- 
dinner  Dean  ;  with  such  a  glorious  vista  before  him 
of  sunny  peaches  and  apricots,  and  mellowing  plums, 
and  blushing  apples,  in  such  quantity  and  quality 
as  only  were  to  be  found  in  that  Deanery  garden, 
hidden  from  profane  eyes  by  high  walls,  and  only 
accessible  to  the  favoured  few,  who  were  honoured 
in  Cloisterham  by  the  general  and  significant  title 
of  "  those  who  visited  at  the  Deanery."  Thus  the 
Dean,  and  the  opinions  expressed  by  him  on  this  occa 
sion,  were  echoed  that  same  evening  through  all 
Cloisterham.  Every  one  related  it  to  somebody  else, 
and  though  occasional  variations  were  observable, 
the  echo  remained  pretty  faithful  to  its  original. 
All  had  felt  sure  that  he  would  not  and  could  not 
remain.  He  had  taken  the  loss  of  his  nephew  too 
much  to  heart,  poor  fellow  !  he  was  quite  an  altered 


6  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

man  since  then.  Always  still  and  reserved,  he  had 
become  so  much  stiller,  and  so  much  more  reserved, 
that  his  voice  was  seldom  heard  except  in  the  choir. 

"  He  had  grown  as  thin  as  a  skeleton,"  said  tearful 
Mrs.  Tope,  relating  the  news  to  her  lodger,  Mr.  Datchery, 
who  took  little  notice  of  it,  remarking  indifferently — 

"  What  did  it  matter  to  a  buffer,  whether  this  or 
that  master  led  the  choir,"  but  supper  being  over, 
and  Mrs.  Tope  departed,  he  added  one  thick  stroke 
to  his  reckoning  behind  the  door,  and  then  taking  up 
his  hat,  strolled  out  into  the  Cathedral  Close.  It 
was  already  dark,  and  light  was  shining  out  from  the 
Gate  House  window,  so  that  Mr.  Datchery  could 
distinctly  see  the  figure  of  a  man  passing  to  and  fro 
inside, — Mr.  Jasper,  doubtless,  perhaps  already  making 
preparations  for  departure.  With  a  perplexed  face, 
Mr.  Datchery  watched  him,  until  aroused  by  feeling 
something  hit  him  from  behind.  Turning  round  sharply, 
he  became  aware  of  Deputy,  who  was  dancing  behind 
him  in  great  glee,  and  exclaimed,  angrily — 

"  Ah,  you  young  vagabond,  are  you  going  to  make 
a  mark  for  your  stones  of  me.  You  had  better  leave 
off  that  game,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  'Ere's  a  row,"  said  Deputy,  "just  because  I  give 
you  one  as  a  widdy  warning.  I  want's  to  speak  to 
you,  and  I  don't  want  for  'im  to  hear,"  shaking  his 
fist  angrily  in  the  direction  of  the  shadow  on  the 
blind.  "  I've  been  a  watchin'  of  'im  for  the  last  arf-a- 
hour,  while  I've  been  a  waitin'  for  you,  and  now  you 
comes  a  rowin'  and  a  scandalizin'  of  me  like  that. 
It's  'arrowin'  to  the  feelin's  of  a  chap,"  said  Deputy, 
rubbing  both  dirty  eyes  with  his  dirty  fists,  and  pre 
tending  to  be  bitterly  hurt,  while  all  the  while,  he 
sharply  scanned  Mr.  Datchery  between  his  fingers,  and 
mentally  calculated  how  much  he  might  get  out  of 
him. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Mr.  Datchery,  good- 
humouredly,  "  out  with  it,  Winks,  what  have  you  got 


TWO    BREAKFASTS  7 

to  tell  me  ?  A  shilling  will  make  us  good  friends  again, 
will  it  not  ?  " 

"  A  'arf-a-crown,"  whimpered  Deputy,  "  I've  injered 
my  'ealth  a  findin'  of  it  out.  'Er  Royal  'Ighness  is 
confounded  hard  to  badger.  I'd  tried  every  dodge 
and  a' most  given  it  up.  I  told  her  she  reminded  me 
of  my  dead  and  gone  mother,  who  died  o'  whisky,  after 
'avin'  nearly  broke  every  bone  of  my  body  (this  for 
the  private  information  of  Mr.  Datchery)  and  that 
I'd  come  and  see  her  in  London.  She  didn't  rise  to  that 
fly  at  all.  I  didn't  remind  her  of  her  dead  and  gone 
son,  and  she  didn't  receive  no  wisitors,  except  in  a 
business  way." 

"  Well,  well,"  put  in  Mr.  Datchery,  impatiently, 
"  did  you  find  it  out  at  last  ?  " 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  continued  Winks,  "  you're  a  comin' 
to  it  a  deal  faster  than  I  did.  I  was  dead  beat,  and, 
af eared  you'd  come  too  short  this  time,  Dick,  but  when 
she  set  out  to  walk  back  to  the  station,  all  mumblin' 
and  totterin',  I  made  up  my  mind  not  to  lose  the  last 
chance,  and  follered  her." 

"  Hoping  to  hitch  it  out  of  her  on  the  road,  eh, 
Winks  ?  " 

"At  a  conwenient  distance,"  went  on  Deputy, 
gravely,  "  lookin'  out  for  the  chance  of  pickin'  of  it 
up  ;  a  mindful  of  my  promise  and  a  reckonin'  on  your 
gratitood." 

"  Not  in  vain,  Winks,  old  boy  !  "  said  Mr.  Datchery 
with  a  laugh,  "  I'm  an  inquisitive  old  buffer,  and  I've 
got  the  means  of  gratifying  my  curiosity  ;  the  woman 
interests  me  ;  I've  a  notion  of  making  a  call  upon  her, 
when  I  go  up  to  town  ;  she  seems  one  of  the  right  sort 
for  mixing  the  opium  pipe,  and  for  a  buffer  who's 
nothing  on  earth  to  do,  anything  that  turns  up  is  a 
godsend." 

Winks,  who  during  these  few  remarks  had  been 
profusely  illustrating  his  name,  now  put  his  thumb 
to  his  nose,  and  widened  his  fingers  towards  his  friend, 


8  A    GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

with  every  sign  of  contempt  and  derision  ;  then,  with 
a  laugh,  which  seemed  to  proceed  from  his  stomach, 
his  mouth  being  totally  unaffected  by  it,  he  replied — 

"  Don't  take  no  trouble  to  waste  none  of  your  chaff 
on  me,  Dick,  for  I  sees  through  yer  as  through  a  winder- 
pane." 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Datchery,  angrily, 
"  what  an  offshoot  of  the  devil  it  is  !  Why  don't 
you  tell  me  what  I  want  to  know  ?  I  know  you  found 
out  at  last,  and  it  don't  matter  to  you  why  I  want  to 
know." 

"  She  got  so  tottery  on  her  pins,"  pursued 
Winks,  with  immovable  gravity,  "  that  at  last  she 
broke  down  on  a  stone  by  the  road,  and  began  to  cough 
and  to  spit  quite  dreadful ;  then  she  closed  her  eyes 
and  fell  to  mumblin'.  Creepin'  up  to  her,  I  says, 
soft  like,  '  where  am  I  to  come  to,  mother  dear,  when 
I  wants  a  pipe  ?  You've  clean  forgot  to  tell  me  that, 
and  without  it,  you  know,  I  shall  have  to  go  to  Jack 
Chinaman.'  I'd  heer'd  her  mumblin'  some' at  about 
Jack  Chinaman,  and  so  I  said  it  at  a  wenture.  Lor  ! 
she  were  quite  lively  in  a  moment.  '  Don't  go  to  Jack 
Chinaman,  deary,'  she  says,  '  cause  he's  much  dearer 
than  I  am,  and  he  don't  know  neither  the  right  mixin' 
of  it  as  I  do  ;  come  to  me,  deary  ;  to  Mother  Coombs 
in  Purgatory  Court,  No.  162,  down  by  the  river.' 
She  kept  on  a  mumblin'  and  a  coughin',  but  I  didn't 
wait  to  hear  no  more,  and  there's  your  answer,  Dick, 
and  now  fork  out  my  arf-a-crown." 

"  There  it  is,  and  now  be  off  with  you,"  said  Mr. 
Datchery.  "  I've  something  to  do  before  night,  and 
I  must  have  time  to  do  it  in.  Stay,"  he  added  sud 
denly,  "  you  may  still  help  me.  Watch  that  man  there 
till  I  come  back,  and  if  he  leaves  the  house,  you  follow 
him,  and  find  out  where  he  goes.  You  may  earn 
another  shilling  to-night,  Winks,  if  you  are  sharp, 
and  more  shillings  in  the  future  ;  you  understand  ?  " 

Deputy  gave  a  significant  and  quick  sign  of  com- 


TWO    BREAKFASTS  g 

prehension  and  assent,  and  shook  one  dirty  fist  again 
in  the  direction  of  the  shadow.  In  the  other  was  closely 
clenched  his  half-a-crown  ;  yet,  between  his  defiant 
growls  for  Mr.  Jasper,  and  his  congratulatory  chuckles 
for  himself,  he  did  not  fail  to  observe  that  Mr.  Datchery, 
behind  him,  was  copying  his  actions  with  even  increased 
vehemence.  Indeed,  this  latter  gentleman  seemed,  for 
some  unaccountable  reason,  to  be  stepping  completely 
out  of  his  role  of  easy-going  buffer,  and  to  take  a  keen 
and  curious  interest  in  the  actions  of  the  shadow,  who, 
in  bodily  form,  called  himself  John  Jasper,  choir 
master. 

And  John  Jasper,  the  threatened ;  John  Jasper, 
the  regretted  ;  John  Jasper,  the  indispensable — late 
professor  of  music  in  the  ancient  city  of  Cloisterham, 
and  leader  of  the  Cathedral  choir — what  of  him  ? 
If  the  devil  had  not  been  dancing  before  his  house  that 
evening,  he  had  most  surely  been  present  in  its  interior, 
standing  in  almost  palpable  form  beside  its  wretched 
inmate,  and  pointing,  with  a  shadowy  hand,  to  the 
reckoning  that  would  not  balance.  Had  he  not  been 
trying  to  add  it  up  all  that  evening,  and  many  a  weary 
evening  and  day  before,  and  yet,  when  it  seemed 
nearly  finished,  only  one  figure  or  so  more,  something 
had  turned  it  all  wrong,  and  he  must  begin  again  at 
the  beginning  How  weary  he  was  !  How  heavy  his 
head  !  How  heavy  his  heart !  Ha  !  was  that  the 
devil  who  laughed  ?  He  had  a  heart ;  how  it  throbbed 
and  beat  passionately  for  love  of  her — or  hatred,  which 
was  it  ?  Once  he  had  loved  her,  how  well  he  remem 
bered  that.  How,  all  the  week,  he  had  but  one  thought, 
one  longing,  for  the  hour  when  he  could  sit  by  her  side, 
touch  her  hand,  sometimes  even  her  little  foot.  How 
often  it  came  upon  the  wrong  pedal,  and  then,  was  it 
not  his  duty  to  put  it  right  ?  Such  a  careless  little 
thing,  and  he  such  a  careful  master  ! 

He  could  praise  her,  correct  her,  scold  her ;  any 
thing,  everything,  to  make  her  lift  her  bright  eyes, 


io  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

whether  in  anger  or  content.  How  long  he  had 
cherished  the  hope  that  she  returned  his  love,  when 
the  saucy  naughtiness  with  which  she  treated  her 
music-master — Eddy's  uncle — had  changed  into  a 
steady,  childish  gravity,  not  unmixed  with  fear. 
How  often  he  had  seen  her  meet  his  eyes  with  a  look 
of  recognition  in  them — recognition  of  what  ? — of 
his  love,  or  of  her  acknowledgment  of  it  ?  How,  at 
this  time,  when  he  touched  her  hand  by  accident, 
or  in  performance  of  his  duty  as  her  music-master, 
instead  of  the  pretty,  naughty  pettishness  she  had 
formerly  shown,  she  would  draw  it  away  with  a  shudder, 
as  if  in  fear,  and  the  bright  colour  would  flush  her  face, 
even  to  the  roots  of  her  waving  hair.  Was  not  that 
the  working  of  the  troubled  conscience  that  reproached 
her  for  treachery  to  her  betrothed  ?  Was  not  that 
almost  a  proof  that  she  returned  his  love  ?  And, 
even  though  the  last  interview  he  had  had  with  her 
had  shown  him  his  error  in  this  respect,  had  revealed 
to  him,  so  distinctly  that  miscomprehension  was 
impossible,  her  shuddering  abhorrence  of  him,  could 
he  give  her  up  ?  No  ! — a  thousand  times,  No  ! — 
a  million  times,  No  !  No  devil  in  hell,  no  God  in  heaven, 
should  make  him  leave  her  to  another  ! 

Smiting  himself  upon  the  breast,  anon  cursing 
himself  and  cursing  her,  anon  pressing  her  picture 
passionately  to  his  heart,  so  the  wretched  man  passed 
the  slow  hours  of  the  weary  night. 

Deputy  and  Mr.  Datchery,  always  on  the  watch, 
saw  the  light,  the  steady  light,  ever  burning  in  the 
Gate  House.  The  grey  morning  peeping  in,  revealed 
a  motionless  form,  haggard  and  worn  out  with  watching 
and  passion.  Finally,  Mrs.  Tope,  all  bustle  and 
broom  and  duster,  coming  in,  was  "  that  shocked  " 
at  beholding  her  honoured  Mr.  Jasper  so  prostrate, 
that,  as  she  afterwards  said,  you  might  have  knocked 
her  down  with  a  feather. 

"  Lord,  ha'  mercy  on  us  !  "  was  her  first  terrified 


TWO    BREAKFASTS  n 

exclamation,  then,  prompt  in  action,  she  had  assisted 
Mr.  Jasper  to  his  easy  chair,  and  was  moistening  his 
pale  forehead  with  water,  before  he  had  time  to  become 
fully  conscious  of  her  presence.  "  There,  there  !  " 
said  the  good  woman,  patting  him  as  if  he  were  a 
baby,  "  you  are  coming  round  nicely  now  ;  a  few  drops 
of  wine  will  set  you  all  right  again,"  and  hastening 
to  a  small  sideboard  behind  the  door,  she  poured 
out  a  glass  of  strong  wine  and  held  it  to  his  lips.  A 
faint  colour  flushed  his  face,  and,  with  a  slight  motion 
of  his  hand,  he  indicated  the  open  boxes  and  things 
scattered  about,  as  if  to  account  for  his  condition. 

But  Mrs.  Tope — bless  her  heart ! — knew  all  about 
it,  and  her  busy  woman's  tongue  was  already  supplying 
all  deficiencies  in  his  explanation. 

"  Lord  bless  you,  sir,  /  know  !  what  with  a  packin' 
up,  and  what  with  a  thinkin'  of  Mr.  Edwin,  it's  been 
too  much  for  you.  Tope,  he'll  bear  me  witness,  that 
only  last  night  I  said  to  him,  '  Tope,'  says  I,  '  I'll 
bet  you  all  the  money  in  the  parish  boxes,  and  some 
thing  more — for  there  ain't  much  in  'em — that  not 
one-half  an  eye  does  Mr.  Jasper  close  this  live-long 
night.'  It  ain't  no  wonder  either,  for  a  sweeter  young 
gentleman,  or  a  kinder,  never  lived,  and  many's  the 
tear  I've  shed,  as  Tope  will  certify  to,  for  him  and  for 
you,  sir ;  but,  if  you'll  excuse  my  takin'  the  liberty 
for  to  say  it,  we  must  all  try  not  to  fret  and  worry 
ourselves  too  much,  even  when  the  trouble's  very 
hard  to  bear.  It  ain't  no  mortal  use,  the  grave  will 
never  give  up  its  dead." 

What  was  that,  glancing  out  sinister  from  the  half- 
closed  eyes  of  the  pale  occupant  of  the  easy  chair  ? 
What  devil  was  that,  hissingly  and  triumphantly 
repeating  her  last  words,  "  the  grave  will  never  give 
up  its  dead  ?  "  Whatever  it  was,  it  was  gone  again 
in  a  moment,  sinking  back  into  the  darkness  whence 
it  had  sprung,  and  leaving  no  trace  of  its  presence 
behind.  Mrs.  Tope  could  have  sworn  she  had  seen 


12  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

and  heard  it  one  moment,  and  the  next,  almost  doubted 
her  own  senses.  It  stopped  her  chatter,  however, 
and  left  her  staring  with  foolish,  wide-open  eyes  at  the 
motionless  figure  opposite  her. 

"  You  are  very  kind  and  sympathising,"  said  the 
choir-master  feebly,  "  and  I  trust  and  rely  on  your 
affection  and  fidelity  to  me  in  all  things  ;  but  this  is 
a  topic  upon  which  I  cannot  trust  myself  to  speak  ; 
the  wound  is  still  too  new  ;  it  hurts  too  much,"  and, 
covering  his  eyes  with  his  long,  thin  hand,  he  sank 
back  in  his  easy  chair,  while  Mrs.  Tope,  a  little  rebuffed 
and  a  little  piqued  at  first,  speedily  recovered  her 
spirits  in  the  exercise  of  her  household  duties. 

The  room  became  brighter,  healthier,  freer.  Even 
Mr.  Jasper,  not  insensible  to  the  cheerful  influence, 
let  fall  the  hand  shadowing  his  eyes,  and  smiled  grateful 
acknowledgment  at  the  verger's  wife. 

Presently,  out  of  the  small  kitchen  below,  issued  a 
savoury  odour ;  coffee  perfumed  the  atmosphere ; 
a  snowy  cloth  decked  the  table ;  plate  and  cup  and 
saucer,  and  brightly  polished  knives  contributed 
their  part  to  the  completion  of  a  cheerful  whole.  In 
a  word,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time,  breakfast, 
neat  and  dainty,  was  laid.  Before  beginning  on  it, 
he  motioned  Mrs.  Tope  to  take  the  vacant  chair  beside 
him. 

"Just  this  once,"  he  pleaded,  as  she  modestly 
hesitated,  "  for  the  first  and  perhaps  the  last  time, 
good  Mrs.  Tope.  You  have  waited  upon  me  so  often, 
and  now  that  the  place  which  has  known  me  so  well 
will  soon  know  me  no  more,  I  cannot  take  my  last  meal 
alone.  You  have  a  few  minutes  to  spare,  have  you 
not  ?  " 

"  As  for  that,"  said  Mrs.  Tope,  "  nothing  should 
have  induced  me  to  go,  sir,  until  I  had  seen  you  take 
a  few  mouthfuls  ;  for  it  frightened  me  terrible  when  I 
first  came  in,  to  see  you  lying  there  so  still  and  white  ; 
and  I  couldn't  answer  it  to  my  conscience  to  go  away 


TWO    BREAKFASTS  13 

and  you  not  fully  restored ;  so  if  you  wishes  it,  and 
orders  me  to  sit  myself  beside  you,  then  I  will  take 
the  liberty,  sir,  and  many  thanks  for  your  goodness  ; 
and  I  hope,  after  all,  that  you  will  change  your  mind 
and  come  back  to  us  ;  for  it's  a  lone  place  is  London, 
sir,  for  a  lone  man,  and  we  shall  miss  you  here  sorely, 
particularly  in  the  Cathedral." 

Thus  the  verger's  wife,  casting  anxious  glances 
from  time  to  time  at  the  choir-master,  who,  reviving 
a  little  under  the  influence  of  the  warm  and  savoury 
morsels,  smiled  back  at  her. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Datchery,  packed  and  ready, 
awaited  impatiently  the  return  of  Mrs.  Tope,  in  order 
to  inform  her  that  a  letter  he  had  received  that  morning 
summoned  him  peremptorily  to  London  ;  a  distant 
relation,  lying  dangerously  ill,  having  demanded, 
in  terms  impossible  to  refuse,  his  presence  there  ;  and 
to  pour  into  her  sympathising  ears  his  bitter  complaint 
of  what  a  fatality  it  was  for  a  single  buffer,  who  denied 
and  utterly  abjured  all  family  ties,  and  who  had  so 
completely  found  his  nook  in  life,  where  he  could 
hang  up  his  hat  for  the  remainder  of  his  days  and 
live  in  peace  and  quietude,  to  be  compelled,  positively 
compelled,  again  to  face  the  world  he  hated,  and  to 
bore  himself  with  matters  which  could  be  of  no  possible 
interest  to  him. 

Meanwhile,  Deputy,  munching  a  crust,  his  frugal 
breakfast,  in  a  corner,  and  occasionally,  with  half  an 
eye,  making  a  mark  of  some  early  passer  by,  watched 
with  keen  intelligence  the  door  of  the  Gate  House, 
ready  on  the  faintest  sign  of  movement  on  the  part 
of  its  inmate,  to  report  to  his  friend  and  ally. 

Breakfast  over  in  the  Gate  House — the  two  having 
eaten  little,  Mr.  Jasper  being  still  too  feeble  and  too 
engrossed  with  anxious  thought,  while  Mrs.  Tope's 
modesty  prevented  her  doing  justice  to  her  usually 
healthy  appetite — the  verger's  wife  packed  the  port 
manteau,  which  the  choir-master  had  decided  on  taking 


14  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

with  him,  and  received  his  instructions  concerning 
the  rest  of  his  worldly  goods  in  Cloisterham.  Then 
the  two  sallied  forth,  Mr.  Jasper  propping  himself 
on  Mrs.  Tope's  strong  arm,  and  proceeded  in  the 
direction  of  the  coach  which  was  to  convey  him  to  the 
station.  Mr.  Crisparkle,  having  said  good-bye  to  his 
mother,  and  heartily  saluted  her  on  both  rosy  cheeks, 
soon  overtook  them,  and  releasing  Mrs.  Tope,  good- 
naturedly  offered  his  arm  to  Jasper ;  but  he  avoided 
all  unnecessary  conversation  with  him,  and  fell  into 
so  meditative  a  mood,  that  the  choir-master,  furtively 
watching  him,  became  every  moment  stiller  and  sterner. 
Finally,  Mr.  Datchery,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  his 
snowy  locks  waving  in  the  gentle  breeze,  and  accom 
panied  by  Winks,  brought  up  the  rear ;  but  at  a 
convenient  distance,  where  they  could  neither  be  seen 
nor  heard  by  the  two  before  them.  Thus  the  three 
arrived  at  the  omnibus  and  took  their  places.  Jasper 
first,  kindly  assisted  by  Mr.  Crisparkle,  who,  however, 
did  not  take  the  seat  beside  him  but  at  the  other  end 
of  the  vehicle  ;  then,  Mr.  Datchery,  cunningly  assisted 
by  Deputy,  who,  with  a  volley  of  oaths  and  a  volley 
of  stones,  thrown  indiscriminately  in  every  direction, 
let  him  slip  unobserved  into  the  seat  by  the  driver, 
Joe,  who  nodded  his  honest  head  in  comprehension 
of  the  situation.  Then  a  mild  expostulation  from  Mr. 
Crisparkle,  a  half  muttered  curse  between  Jasper's 
clenched  teeth,  a  crack  of  Joe's  whip,  a  strong  pull 
from  the  horses,  a  cloud  of  dust — Deputy  becoming 
gradually  a  mere  speck  in  the  distance — and  rattle, 
rattle  towards  the  great  city,  whither  they  were  all 
bound. 


CHAPTER    II 

MR.     GREWGIOUS'S    NEW    CLERK 

MR.  GREWGIOUS,  in  his  solitary  chambers  in  Staple 
Inn,  sipping  a  cup  of  coffee  after  a  late  dinner,  and 
sipping  it  in  no  very  enviable  frame  of  mind,  has  had 
a  trying  day.  He  is  feeling  deeply  that  he  is  getting 
too  old  for  change,  and  yet  change  has  been  forced  upon 
him — come  upon  him,  as  he  says  to  himself,  discon 
solately,  like  a  clap  of  thunder  from  a  cloudless  sky. 

For,  however  unpleasant  it  may  be,  in  some  points 
of  view,  to  have  a  clerk  who,  intellectually,  is  im 
measurably  your  superior,  and  who  never  hesitates  to 
force  the  conviction  of  this  fact  down  your  reluctant 
throat — a  bitter  tonic  for  your  humility ;  however 
inconvenient  it  may  be  to  have  a  clerk,  so  liable  to 
wander  into  the  mazes  of  fancy  and  lose  himself  there 
as  to  be  never  up  to  the  point  of  poking  his  own  fire, 
and  therefore  virtually  compelling  you  to  perform 
that  office  for  him  ;  however  harrowing  to  the  feelings 
it  may  be,  to  have  a  clerk  so  sunk  in  melancholy 
and  clogged  by  the  weight  of  a  Tragedy  which  no  one 
will  buy  of  him,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  hard  work  to 
hoist  him  to  the  surface  of  everyday  life,  when  he  is 
wanted  there  ;  yet  all  these  evils,  like  all  other  evils 
to  which  mankind  is  subject,  become  comparatively 
easy  to  bear,  from  usage. 

Not  that  Mr.  Grewgious  has  had  a  want  of  applicants 
for  the  post  vacated  by  his  late  clerk,  Bazzard  ;  no, 
indeed  !  that  would  have  been  a  blessing,  compared 
to  the  dread  reality.  Ever  since  he  had  been  so  unfor 
tunate  as  to  make  his  want  known  in  the  "  Times/' 

15 


16  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

crowds  of  applicants  for  the  vacant  place  have  been 
invading  the  quiet  of  Staple  Inn,  and  making  it  as 
noisy  as  the  noisy  streets  outside,  with  the  echo  of 
their  footsteps.  The  frightened  sparrows,  scared 
from  their  search  for  crumbs  below,  fly  dismayed  to 
sheltering  roof  and  chimney,  looking  down  with  ruffled 
feathers,  cocked  heads,  and  bright  attentive  eyes, 
upon  the  unwonted  scene  ;  and  the  husky  door-bell  of 
Mr.  Grewgious's  chambers,  breaking  down  under  this 
unprecedented  demand  upon  its  strength,  grows  dumb 
and  voiceless.  Poor  Mr.  Grewgious  himself — clerkless, 
and  only  assisted  by  a  temporary  boy  who  is  usually 
absent,  occupied  in  a  vain  attempt  to  bring  down  a 
sparrow,  when  the  force  of  the  invaders  is  numerically 
strongest — is  quite  knocked  off  his  legs  by  the  constant 
running  to  and  fro,  and  what  is  worse,  knocked  off  his 
balance  too. 

Aged  clerks  have  presented  themselves,  with  snowy 
heads  and  scanty  locks,  and  faces,  more  pinched, 
perhaps,  from  want,  than  from  old  Time  himself ; 
and  youthful  clerks,  with  rosy  health  upon  their 
beardless  cheeks.  Mysterious  clerks,  with  untold 
horrors  in  their  hollow  eyes  ;  and  ingenuous  clerks, 
with  gaudy  flowers  in  their  buttonholes ;  dismal 
clerks,  with  long-drawn  whining  voices  and  heart 
rending  sighs  ;  and  cheerful  clerks,  one  broad  grin  from 
ear  to  ear  ;  come-down-in-the- world  clerks,  with  a  sort 
of  faded  and  shabby  gentility  about  them  still ;  and 
coming-up-in-the-world  clerks,  with  a  smack  of  the 
errand-boy  upon  them  yet ;  fast  clerks,  in  at  the  door 
and  out  again,  before  one  could  cry  "  Jack  Robinson  "  ; 
and  slow  clerks,  impossible  to  be  got  rid  of  when  once 
there.  Distracting  clerks,  one  and  all,  to  worried 
Mr.  Grewgious,  who  is  most  thankful  to  get  rid  of  each 
in  turn,  and  who,  in  a  worse  dilemma  than  at  the  first, 
has  finally  placed  the  temporary  boy  behind  the  outer 
door  with  strict  injunctions  to  let  no  one  in,  and 
has  retired,  worn-out  and  disconsolate,  to  his  inner 


MR.    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW   CLERK         17 

sanctuary,  to  brood  over  the  vicissitudes  of  human  life, 
and  to  rest  a  little  from  the  toils  and  labours  of  that 
trying  day. 

Is  that  a  rap  on  the  door  ?  Now  heaven  be  merciful 
to  the  ears  of  that  temporary  boy,  for  Mr.  Grewgious, 
who  has  never  administered  a  box  on  the  ear  in  his 
life,  has  vowed  to  make  his  first  experiment  in  that 
way  on  them,  and  to  make  it  with  a  vengeance. 

Incapable  of  rising  to  the  emergency  by  doubly 
bolting  and  barricading  the  door  to  keep  out  the 
intruder,  Mr.  Grewgious  utters  his  customary  "  come 
in,"  and  succumbs  to  his  feelings  in  an  easy  chair, 
into  which  he  sinks,  a  prey  to  despair,  as  a  tall  figure 
shows  itself  upon  the  threshold. 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  he  murmurs,  "  if  it  ain't  another  !  " 

Another  comes  in  with  a  low  bow. 

"  Their  name  is  Legion,"  groans  Mr.  Grewgious, 
adding  aloud  with  the  resignation  of  utter  despair, 
"  Take  a  seat,  sir." 

The  new  comer  seating  himself,  and  still  remaining 
silent,  Mr.  Grewgious  continues — 

"  You  are  come,  I  presume,  in  answer  to  the  adver 
tisement  ?  " 

A  low  bow  again.  An  old  young  man,  or  a  young 
old  man  ? — Mr.  Grewgious'  short-sighted  eyes  cannot 
make  out  which.  A  man  of  about  middle  height ; 
thin  and  scared  looking  ;  with  black  beard  and  whis 
kers  ;  and  hair  dark  as  night.  A  pale  man,  with 
something  weird  and  mysterious  about  him  like  a 
spectre,  and  whose  eyes,  hidden  behind  a  massive  pair 
of  blue  spectacles,  are  all  the  more  open  to  terrible 
suspicion  on  that  account.  A  voiceless  man,  sitting 
still  in  the  chair,  into  which  he  had  sunk  on  Mr.  Grew 
gious'  invitation,  and  in  which  he  remains  motionless, 
with  his  glazed  eyes  fixed  upon  that  exhausted  gentle 
man,  freezing  him. 

"  This  is  getting  alarming,"  thinks  Mr.  Grewgious, 
"  and  I'm  on  the  wrong  side  for  the  bell.     Besides, 
c 


i8  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

that  boy  is  sure  not  to  be  at  his  post.  But  boys  will 
be  boys,"  he  adds,  as  his  anger  ebbs  fast,  "  I  was  a 
boy  once  myself,  and  remember  perfectly  how  it  hurt 
me  to  have  my  ears  boxed,  and  how  they  burned 
afterwards.  I'll  lay  it  on  gently,  only  as  a  matter 
of  warning."  Then  aloud,  "Do  you  wish  to  confer 
with  me  on  any  subject,  sir  ?  " 

"  You  are  seeking  a  clerk  ?  " 

"  Unfortunately,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  I  am." 
He  is  greatly  relieved  to  hear  the  mysterious  stranger 
speak  ;  for,  exhausted  as  he  is,  his  imagination  has 
been  conjuring  up  in  him  a  ghostly  visitor. 

"  I  am  come  to  offer  myself  as  a  candidate  for  the 
place." 

"  Very  good  !  "  responds  Mr.  Grewgious,  wishing 
that  he  hadn't. 

"  I  beg  you  to  try  me." 

There  is  a  curious  roughness  in  the  voice  as  if  the 
speaker  were  struggling  with  tears,  and  as  if  the  issue 
of  the  struggle  were  doubtful.  But  after  a  pause, 
he  goes  on  again— 

"  I  am  poor,  and  without  friends.  I  am  exceedingly 
anxious  to  get  work  to  do  because,  if  I  cannot,  I  must 
beg  or  starve,  and  to  beg  I  am  ashamed.  But  I  will 
work — work  night  and  day,  if  you  wish  it ;  and  you 
shall  pay  me  for  that  work  not  one  penny  more  than 
you  decide  that  it  is  worth." 

Although  staggered  by  this  address,  so  unusual, 
so  wholly  different  from  anything  said  by  the  fifty-odd 
applicants  who  have  been  besieging  his  rooms  and 
altering  the  chronic  aspect  of  Staple  Inn  all  that  day, 
and  touched  by  the  pathos  and  apparent  sincerity 
of  the  speaker,  and  by  something  else — a  something 
undefinable,  but  which  makes  the  strange  figure,  and 
the  broken  voice  seem  not  altogether  unfamiliar — 
though  why  familiar,  or  where,  he  cannot  tell — Mr. 
Grewgious  is,  nevertheless,  far  too  versed  in  the  ways 
of  the  world  and  its  hypocrisies  to  show  for  the  present 


MR.    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW   CLERK         19 

anything  more  than  his  strict  business  side  to  the 
stranger.  He  inquires,  therefore,  more  drily  than 
ever — 

"  What  is  your  name,  sir  ?  " 

"  Brandis.     Robert  Brandis,  at  your  service." 

"  Are  you  young,"  continues  Mr.  Grewgious,  screwing 
up  his  eyes  in  an  earnest  endeavour  to  penetrate  the 
blue  spectacles,  and  unscrewing  them  again,  as  wise 
as  he  was  before,  "  or  middle-aged,  or  old  ?  " 

"  I  am  young,  sir ;  young  in  years,  though  trouble 
has  aged  me." 

"  Humph  !  "  exclaims  Mr.  Grewgious,  smoothing  his 
head  in  some  perturbation  of  spirit ;  for  good  sense 
and  good  feeling  are  pointing  in  opposite  directions, 
and  he  cannot  make  up  his  mind  which  to  follow. 
Then,  abruptly — "  Have  you  anything  the  matter 
with  your  eyes  ?  I  wear  spectacles  myself,  sometimes, 
on  account  of  my  short  sight ;  but  not  blue  ones. 
I  cannot  say,"  viewing  these  articles  with  strong  dis 
favour,  and  speaking  more  sharply  than  he  would  have 
done  but  for  the  conflict  within,  "  that  I  consider  them 
an  improvement.  Not  at  all." 

"  I  wear  them,  sir,  because  I  must.  They  do  not 
interfere  with  my  seeing  all  it  is  necessary  for  me  to 
see." 

"  Very  likely,"  thinks  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  but  they 
interfere  with  your  being  seen,  and  that's  what  I  want 
to  do.  Can  you  write  a  good,  clear,  legible  hand  ?  " 
inquires  Mr.  Grewgious  further,  in  a  hard  and  severe 
tone.  For  common  good  sense  is  slowly  yielding  to 
the  attack  of  uncommon  kindly  feeling,  and  Mr. 
Grewgious  is  half-angry  with  himself  for  his  own 
weakness,  as  he  knows  the  world  will  call  it. 

"  Let  me  show  you,  sir."  He  turns  to  a  table, 
upon  which  writing  materials  are  lying,  and  writes  his 
name  in  full.  There  is  no  manner  of  objection  to  be 
made  to  the  handwriting.  It  will  do. 

"  Have  you  any  notion  of  bookkeeping  ?  " 


20  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

"  Not  much,  sir,  as  yet ;  but  I  will  learn,  in  my  spare 
hours,  if  I  have  any.  In  a  very  short  time,  I  will  learn. 
I  am  a  good  arithmetician.  Do  not  let  that  be  an 
obstacle." 

"  That  shall  be  no  obstacle,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious, 
feeling  strangely  drawn  towards,  and  at  the  same  time 
strangely  repelled  by  this  individual  with  the  blue 
spectacles,  "  just  as  if,"  he  says  to  himself,  "  I  were  a 
hard  old  bit  of  iron,  which  I  very  likely  am,  and  he 
a  magnet,  continually  changing  poles." 

"  So  far,  all  being  satisfactory,"  continues  Mr.  Grew 
gious,  who  has  been  stroking  his  head  to  bring  that  too, 
if  possible,  to  a  satisfactory  degree  of  smoothness, 
though  apparently  without  the  wished-for  result, 
for  he  still  looks  perplexed  and  dissatisfied,  "  there 
only  remains  the  business  form  of  consulting  your 
testimonials.  May  I  trouble  you  for  them  ?  " 

The  result  of  this  very  natural  question  is  a  startling 
one.  The  stranger  springs  to  his  feet ;  and  approaches 
Mr.  Grewgious  with  a  passionate  gesture. 

"  Have  I  not  told  you,"  he  says,  "  that  I  have  none  ? 
Have  I  not  said  that  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  city — in  the 
country  itself,  and  that  I  have  no  acquaintance  or 
friend  to  speak  a  word  in  my  favour  ?  Painful  family 
affairs,  which  have  tainted  me  although  I  am  innocent, 
have  forced  me  to  begin  life  again,  and  to  begin  it  at 
the  foot  of  the  ladder.  You  are  a  good  and  kind-hearted 
man,  sir.  I  feel  it.  I  have  heard  others  say  so.  Do 
not  send  me  away  on  that  account,  as  others  have  done 
over  and  over  again.  For,  sir,  the  devil  is  always  close 
at  hand  to  tempt  desperate  men,  and  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  desperation,  there  is  such  a  condition  as 
despair." 

The  repulsive  power  of  the  magnet  is  strongly 
brought  to  bear  upon  Mr.  Grewgious  during  this  speech, 
and  makes  him  turn  a  cold  ear  to  the  passionate  appeal. 
For  he  can  read  no  confirmation  of  its  truth  in  the  eyes 
of  the  speaker.  Their  cold,  glassy  covering  baffles  all 


MR.    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW   CLERK          21 

his  efforts  to  penetrate  it,  and  he  draws  back  stiffly, 
to  say,  drily  and  coldly — 

"  That  is  all  very  well,  though  hardly  a  business  way 
of  going  to  work,  and  may  be  true,  may  be.  I  have  no 
right  to  doubt  it,  but  I  am  a  remarkably  unimaginative 
man,  and  I  find  it  difficult  to  bring  any  imagination 
to  bear  upon  such  a  case.  It  is,  however,  excuse  me, 
so  unusual  for  a  young  man  to  have  attained  your  age, 
and  attained  it  blamelessly,  without  being  able  to 
produce  any  one,  personally  or  by  letter,  to  testify 
to  that  fact,  that,  as  a  well-wisher,  I  should  advise 
you  to  lose  no  time  in  endeavouring  to  hunt  up  some 
one  to  perform  that  friendly  office  for  you.  I  should 
indeed,  should  indeed." 

"  That  is  impossible,"  answers  the  stranger,  burying 
his  agitated  face  in  his  trembling  hands,  and  the  tone 
of  his  voice  strikes  cold  on  the  warm  heart  of  the  old 
man,  for  it  is  a  tone  of  anguish.  Then,  after  a  pause, 
he  raises  his  head  again,  to  make  one  last  effort. 

"  Oh,  sir,  can  you  not  feel  that  I  am  honest  ?  Can 
you  not  hear  that  I  am  only  longing  for  work  ;  and 
willing  and  wishful  to  perform  that  work  to  the  best 
of  my  ability  ?  Is  there  no  possibility  of  my  getting 
anything  to  do  without  testimonials  ?  Is  it  utterly 
hopeless  to  think  of  obtaining  work  without  a  charac 
ter  ?  " 

"  As  a  man  of  business,"  answers  Mr.  Grewgious, 
clearing  his  voice,  which  is  getting  husky,  and  smooth 
ing  his  smooth  head  again,  "  I  should  say  it  is.  As 
a  man  acquainted  with  the  ways  of  the  world,  and 
its  customs,  and  its  requirements,  as  a  rule,  I  should 
say  decidedly  yes  !  " 

"  Then  may  God  save  me,  and  protect  me  from  evil," 
says  the  young  man,  taking  his  hat,  "  and  help  me,  if 
it  be  possible,  to  find  some  one  who  thinks  differently. 
I  have  heard,  casually  heard,  you  spoken  of  as  a  kind- 
hearted,  benevolent  man,  and  that  gave  me  courage 
to  come  to  you.  Otherwise,  I  would  never  have 


22  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

crossed  your  threshold  ;  otherwise,  I  would  have  gone 
to  the  world's  end,  rather  than  have  risked  what  I 
have  risked  in  coming  here  to-night.  Not  that  I 
blame  you  ;  you  are  acting,  no  doubt,  according  to 
your  lights.  God  help  me  now,  for  there  is  no  help  in 
man  !  " 

Uttering  these  last  words  under  his  breath,  more 
to  himself  than  to  his  hearer,  he  turns  hurriedly  to  go 
— would  have  been  gone  in  another  moment,  but  that 
Mr.  Grewgious,  in  whose  benevolent  heart  his  last  words 
seem  to  ring  like  a  knell,  crossing  the  room  with  an 
agility  utterly  unexpected  in  him,  lays  a  detaining 
hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Wait  a  bit ;  wait  a  bit !  "  he  pants,  out  of  breath, 
"  and  sit  down  again.  We  haven't  done  with  one 
another  yet.  Who  told  you  I  didn't  mean  to  try  you  ? 
Not  I,  I  am  sure.  Why,  you  are  like  a  Jack-in-the- 
box  (I  had  one  given  me  once,  when  I  was  a  little  lad, 
and  it  was  the  terror  of  my  childhood),  springing  out 
like  mad,  when  one  never  means  or  expects  him. 
We  business  men  are  not  accustomed  to  making  con 
tracts  in  a  hurry  ;  and  I,  in  particular,  am  so  remark 
ably  slow  in  my  decisions,  that  without  sufficient 
time  I  can  decide  on  nothing.  Bless  my  soul !  I'm 
all  of  a  tremble  still  with  the  effort  of  stopping  you. 
Give  me  time,  my  good  fellow,  give  me  time." 

With  his  blue  spectacles  all  awry,  and  his  hat  falling 
from  his  trembling  hand  ;  with  his  lips  quivering,  and 
the  tears  he  had  kept  back  with  such  difficulty  during 
the  interview  falling  thick  and  fast,  the  young  man 
sinks  into  the  chair  again,  opposite  Mr.  Grewgious, 
who  is  blowing  his  nose  with  a  trumpet-sound. 

"  I  was  just  upon  the  point  of  saying,"  begins  Mr. 
Grewgious,  speaking  very  slowly  and  distinctly,  as 
if  he  fears  his  voice  may  turn  traitor,  and  let  out 
something  he  wishes  to  conceal,  "  that  I  didn't  object 
to  give  you  a  trial,  contrary  to  custom,  even  without 
a  character,  when  you  broke  into  what  may  be  termed 


MR.    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW   CLERK         23 

the  Emotional.  Being  myself  a  man  born  without 
emotions,  or,  at  any  rate,  with  emotions  in  so  rarefied 
a  state  that  they  never  expose  me  to  the  risk  of  an 
explosion,  it  is  naturally  mortifying  and  trying  to  my 
feelings  to  see  people  meandering  into  entirely  un- 
business-like  paths  where  I  cannot  follow  'em.  You 
took  a  by-path,  sir,  in  entering  into  the  Emotional, 
and  I  beg  you  to  return  to  me  now  into  the  broad 
highroad  of  Common  Sense." 

How  hard  and  dry  are  the  words  the  old  man  utters  ; 
and  his  voice,  hard  and  dry,  too,  chimes  in  unison. 
Yet  his  eyes,  screwed  together  so  tightly,  are  not 
screwed  this  time  only  to  enable  his  short  sight  to  reach 
further.  And  when  he  again  attacks  his  nose,  and 
brings  forth  a  renewal  of  the  trumpet-sound,  he  turns 
aside  his  head  to  make  use  of  his  handkerchief  for 
another  and  more  secret  purpose. 

"  Your  duties  would  not  be  heavy,"  he  resumes, 
"  and  though  naturally  hard  (I  was  born  so)  I  trust 
you  would  not  find  me  an  unjust  master.  Your 
salary,  I  will  pay  you  monthly  for  the  present  (it  is 
more  convenient  to  me),  a  month  in  advance.  If  you 
are  unprovided  with  lodgings,  there  are  some  nice 
ones  not  far  from  here  which  are  to  be  had.  The  lady 
who  keeps  them — a  most  remarkable  female  of  the 
name  of  Billickin — has  begged  me  to  remember  that 
they  are  empty,  and  to  help  her  to  fill  them.  But 
that,  of  course,  rests  with  you,"  continues  Mr.  Grew- 
gious,  remembering,  with  some  alarm,  that  a  sojourn 
with  that  lady  is  not  without  its  drawbacks.  "  Though 
she  might  take  more  kindly  to  a  male  than  to  a  female," 
he  thinks. 

The  stranger,  who  can  hardly  speak  for  tears, 
thanks  him  fervently. 

"It  is  a  pleasant  custom  (among  heathens)  in 
ratifying  a  contract,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  to  break 
bread  over  it.  My  coffee  is  cold,  but  my  boy  shall  run 
over  to  Furnival's  for  a  fresh  supply.  Not  that  we 


24  A    GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

are  heathens,  I  trust ;  or  that  coffee  is  bread,  or  any 
thing  like  it  (though  we  may  have  a  morsel  to  eat 
along  with  it,  for  I'm  as  hungry,  myself,  as  a  wolf), 
but  I'm  the  most  unfortunate  man  in  the  world  at  a 
simile,  and  invariably  break  down  when  I  attempt 
one  ;  and  it  may  answer  the  same  purpose,  perhaps." 

Mr.  Grewgious,  during  these  remarks,  has  been 
guilty  of  the  rudeness  of  turning  his  back  upon  the 
stranger,  and  has  been  studiously  contemplating  in 
different  objects  in  the  room  with  a  sudden  interest 
in  them  which  demands  all  the  short  sight  with  which 
Nature  has  provided  him,  for  the  young  man  has 
broken  into  low  sobs,  and  is  vainly  struggling  to  com 
pose  himself.  To  give  the  stranger  further  time  and 
opportunity,  Mr.  Grewgious  shuffles  out  of  the  room  ; 
and  on  his  return  the  young  man  has  (to  use  Mr. 
Grewgious'  own  words)  emerged  from  the  by-paths  of 
the  Emotional,  and  come  out  into  the  broad,  high  road 
of  Common  Sense. 

In  with  Mr.  Grewgious,  or  rather,  close  upon  the 
heels  of  that  gentleman,  comes  a  waiter  from  Furnivals' 
with  the  smoking  coffee,  and  the  "  bit  of  eatable," 
which  promptitude  on  the  part  of  said  waiter  is  so 
approved  of  by  Mr.  Grewgious  that  he  rewards  it  on 
the  spot  with  a  piece  of  silver. 

"  Really/'  he  remarks,  rubbing  his  hands  com 
placently,  "  this  will  be  quite  a  cheerful  family  tea, 
to  which  I've  long  been  a  stranger — only  it  ain't  tea, 
and  we  ain't  a  family — but  that's  like  me.  Draw  up 
to  the  table,  my  good  sir,  and  let's  begin,  for  I'm 
absolutely  starving.  My  dinner  must  have  gone  all 
the  wrong  way,  on  account  of  the  worry  I've  been  in, 
for  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what's  become  of  it.  Dear 
me  !  it's  just  occurred  to  me  that  perhaps  you  don't 
like  coffee." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do,  sir." 

11  Well,  that's  a  blessing  !  Now  let  me  try  and  pour 
out  for  you,  and  if  I  don't  make  it  to  your  liking,  pray 


MR.    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW    CLERK         25 

mention  it,  and  I  shall  be  extremely  obliged  to  you. 
I'm  such  a  remarkably  helpless  man,  and  so  little  used 
to  pouring  out  anything  for  anybody  except  myself 
— and  I'm  nobody — that  I'm  almost  sure  to  bungle. 
Here's  cream,  here's  sugar,  here's  (holding  it  close,  to 
make  out  what)  something  I  can't  specify,  but  it's 
something  to  eat,  and  very  nice,  I  dare  say.  Now, 
do  try  it.  I  shall  feel  personally  flattered  if  you 
like  it." 

Handing  all  these  things  to  his  guest,  and  pressing 
them  upon  him,  as  if  he  had  got  the  notion  into  his 
head  that  he  must  be  on  the  point  of  perishing 
from  starvation,  Mr.  Grewgious,  in  spite  of  his  pro 
testations  of  hunger,  touches  not  a  morsel,  nor 
imbibes  a  drop,  until  he  has  seen  his  visitor  fully 
occupied. 

"  And  now,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  to  return  to 
the  subject  of  your  qualifications.  There's  one  question 
I  must  ask  you,  which  I  almost  forgot,  though  it's  a 
most  important  one — can  you  poke  a  fire  ?  " 

Smiling  for  the  first  time  during  the  interview,  the 
young  man  answers  with  some  surprise  at  the 
question — • 

"  I  hope  so,  sir.  Are  you  very  particular  about  the 
manner  of  doing  it  ?  " 

"  No,  it  isn't  that.  Every  human  individual,  I  do 
believe,  has  his  own  particular  way  of  poking  a  fire ; 
I've  got  my  way,  and  I  dare  say  you  have  yours. 
But  I  mean,  whether  you  are  liable  to  forget  to  do 
it?  " 

"  If  I  should  be  so  foolish,  sir,  I  should  have  to 
suffer  the  penalty  ;  but  I  do  not  think  my  memory  is 
so  short." 

"  Why,  you  see,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious,  smoothing 
his  head  somewhat  dejectedly,  "  I  had  a  clerk — alas ! 
I  have  him  no  more  ! — who,  being  a  genius,  and  a  writer 
of  tragedies,  couldn't  be  expected,  you  know  (and  I 
didn't  expect  it,  I  am  sure)  to  think  of  such  a  thing 


26  A    GREAT    MYSTERY    SOLVED 

as  a  fire,  and,  every  day  a'most,  his  fire  used  to  go 
out." 

"  He  couldn't  have  been  so  liable  to  take  cold  as  I, 
then,  or  he  would  have  remembered  to  replenish  it  for 
his  own  sake." 

"  Not  liable  to  take  cold  !  Bless  you  !  he  was  liable 
to  take  it  to  a  most  extraordinary  degree.  Cold  in  the 
head,  cold  on  the  chest,  cold  in  the  stomach,  cold 
running  to  rheumatism,  or  to  a  cough,  or  to  seed  and 
becoming  chronic.  It  makes  me  hot  to  think  in  how 
many  dreadful  forms  cold  used  to  attack  and  prostrate 
him." 

The  stranger,  not  knowing  what  to  say  to  this,  yet 
conscious  that  Mr.  Grewgious'  eyes  are  emphatically 
demanding  a  comment,  says,  with  an  expression  of 
surprise  and  concern — 

"  Indeed !  " 

"  Of  course  I  felt  it  my  bounden  duty  not  to  let  the 
unfortunate  young  man,  so  highly  talented,  fall  a  prey 
to  cold  of  any  kind  on  my  premises,"  continues  Mr. 
Grewgious.  "  I  therefore  took  upon  myself  to  attend 
to  his  fire,  privately,  and  without  letting  him  know  of 
my  intention.  But,  unfortunately,  I  am  as  liable  to 
forget  as  he  is  to  take  cold,  particularly  when  engrossed 
in  my  accounts,  and  the  pangs  of  conscience  I  have 
suffered,  when  he  would  hint  severely — as  he  did, 
sometimes — that  cold  might  turn  to  inflammation, 
and  inflammation  might  carry  him  off  in  a  winking, 
and  that  then  I  should  have  to  bear,  not  only  his  loss 
— which,  naturally,  would  be  hard  upon  me — but 
the  whole  weight  of  his  inflamed  blood  and  unfinished 
tragedies  upon  my  luckless  head." 

There  is  a  sort  of  twinkle  in  Mr.  Grewgious'  eye 
at  this  juncture  which  rather  modifies  the  tragic 
solemnity  of  his  words,  but  it  disappears,  as  he  goes 
on  again. 

"  Now,  I  am  a  remarkably  wooden  man,  and  stiff 
in  the  joints,  and  indisposed  to  be  much  in  motion ; 


MR.    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW   CLERK         27 

therefore,  as  a  precautionary  measure,  I  always  had 
his  fire  made  up  in  the  morning  very  big  indeed  ; 
but  as  if  possessed  by  a  demoniacal  desire  to  worry  me, 
or  perhaps  out  of  pure  disgust  at  finding  itself  looked 
upon  so  coldly  by  Mr.  Bazzard  (that's  the  name),  that 
fire  had  an  almost  unnatural  propensity  for  going  out. 
I  used  to  hear  him  cough  or  sneeze  (a  most  terrific 
sneeze,  shaking  Staple  Inn  like  a  small  earthquake), 
and,  rushing  in  frantically  (which  last  I  beg  to  be  con 
sidered  a  figure  of  speech,  it  being  impossible  for  me 
to  rush),  I  always  found  that  fire  dead  or  dying. 

"  You  have  no  idea,"  goes  on  Mr.  Grewgious,  after 
a  short  break  in  his  narration  in  order  to  replenish  his 
visitor's  cup  and  plate,  in  spite  of  the  protestations  of 
that  satiated  person ;  "  you  can  have  no  idea  of  the 
bitter  reproaches  I  used  to  make  myself.  In  imagina 
tion — also  a  figure  of  speech,  for  I  haven't  any — I  saw 
myself  and  my  name,  until  yet  respectable,  branded 
by  indignant  contemporaries,  and  basely  defrauded 
posterity,  on  account  of  having  been  an  active  agent, 
or  rather  inactive  one  (it  may  be  difficult  to  understand 
me,  for  I  am  getting  into  deep  waters,  and  can't  swim), 
in  the  premature  extinguishing  of  a  bright  and  shining 
light.  I  feel  his  loss,  and  mine,  immensely." 

"  Why  did  he  leave  you  ?  "  enquires  the  stranger, 
while  Mr.  Grewgious  gulps  down  his  coffee  (cold)  with 
as  lively  an  expression  of  enjoyment  as  his  unfinished 
features  could  express,  smacking  his  lips  afterwards. 

"  Ah,  that's  the  best  part  of  the  story  ;  and  the 
only  thing  which  reconciles  me  to  my  deprivation. 
His  father,  a  rough,  uneducated,  unappreciative, 
remarkably  prejudiced  man,  who  couldn't  be  got  to  see 
what  a  treasure  he  possessed  in  a  son  who  composed 
tragedies  and  who,  in  short,  was  so  opposed  to  'em 
that  a  hint  of  their  existence  brought  on  blood  to  the 
head  which  had  to  be  taken  from  him  in  quarts,  kept 
my  poor  fellow  so  short  of  money  that  he  couldn't 
bring  out  his  masterpiece — in  confidence,  '  A  Thorn  ! ' 


28  A    GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

— and  even  threatened  to  cut  him  off  with  a  shilling, 
if  he  ever  heard  another  word  about  it.  But  (it  was 
a  judgment,  no  doubt)  he  was  cut  off  himself  in  the 
midst  of  his  prejudiced  career,  knocked  into  the  other 
world  by  a  stroke  which  he  couldn't  avert  and  which 
prevented  him  from  carrying  out  his  unnatural  inten 
tion,  for  ever." 

"  Violence  or  apoplexy  ?  "  enquires  the  stranger. 

"  Apoplexy,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious,  with  solemnity, 
gently  and  apologetically  shaking  his  head,  as  if  death 
were  a  thing  to  be  disapproved  of  in  the  abstract, 
but  that  here  there  were  extenuating  circumstances. 
"  Blood  to  the  head,  you  know.  He  was  always  sub 
ject  to  it,  and  there  was  no  one  on  the  spot  to  draw  it 
off  in  quarts.  Dear,  dear  !  such  is  life  !  You  should 
have  seen  my  Genius,  when  he  came  to  tell  me  the 
news." 

"  He  was,  no  doubt,  terribly  cast  down  ?  " 

"  Cast  down !  "  says  Mr.  Grewgious.  "  Not  a  bit. 
Picked  up,  he  was,  my  poor  fellow.  He  had  been  cast 
down  enough  before.  There  was  no  mistake  about 
the  money.  A  small  annuity  for  his  mother,  a  trifle 
for  his  sisters,  and  all  the  rest  of  it  for  the  tragedies. 
You  may  imagine  my  feelings  when  he  told  me  that  it 
was  his  intention  to  dedicate  his  next  to  me  !  " 

The  stranger  is  understood  to  murmur  that  "  that 
was  only  what  you  might  expect  from  so  very  remark 
able  a  clerk." 

"  Only  think  of  that,  to  me  !  "  continues  Mr.  Grew 
gious,  complacently.  "  Only  fancy  my  figuring  in  a 
book  !  Why,  if  I  shut  my  eyes,  I  can  almost  see  it : 
'  Dedicated  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Hiram  Grewgious, 
Receiver  of  Rents,  of  Staple  Inn,  Holborn  ;  who,  in  a 
humble  way,  always  did  his  best  to  preserve  my  life  for 
a  grateful  country.'  ' 

The  stranger,  smiling,  thinks  it  would  not  be  like 
that. 

**  No  ?     Don't  you  really  ?  "   says  Mr.  Grewgious, 


MR.    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW   CLERK         29 

seemingly  disappointed.  "  Well,  I  dare  say  you  are 
right.  I  am  a  remarkably  unimaginative  man,  and 
have  so  little  acquaintance  with  the  flowery  paths  of 
literature,  and  so  clear  a  conviction  that  I  should  cut 
the  poorest  of  poor  figures  there,  that  perhaps  it  may 
be  as  well  if  he  forgets  it.  What,  you  ain't  going,  are 
you  ?  " 

"  It  is  very  late,  sir,  nearly  ten  ;  and  I  fear  to  weary 
you." 

"  A  gentlemanly  way  of  telling  me  that  I  have 
wearied  you  to  death,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious,  smiling  ; 
"  I've  been  jabbering  and  chattering  like  a  lean  magpie, 
or — or — a  female.  Well,  I  won't  detain  you,  for  you 
look  pale  and  tired." 

Mr.  Grewgious  screws  up  his  eyes  very  tight  to  watch 
the  stranger  draw  on  his  gloves  and  take  his  hat,  but 
the  mysterious  spectacles  baffle  all  his  efforts  to 
make  out  more.  Bold,  hard,  impenetrable,  these  glassy 
foreposts  effectually  hinder  him  from  seeing  what  he 
seeks  to  see  ;  and  he  finally  smooths  his  head  resignedly. 

"  When  do  you  wish  me  to  come  to  you,  sir  ?  " 

"  If  you  can  manage  to  come  to-morrow  or,  at  any 
rate,  as  soon  as  possible,  I  shall  be  glad  ;  for  I  have  at 
present  only  a  temporary  boy  "  (Mr.  Grewgious  is  again 
sensible  of  a  pang,  as  he  remembers  the  painful  duty 
before  him),  "  who  helps  me  mostly,  by  trying  to  rid 
Staple  Inn  of  its  sparrows,  and  the  sooner  the  better 
for  me." 

"  The  sooner  the  better  for  me  too,  sir.  I  will  come 
to-morrow." 

"  And  here,"  says  Mr.  Grewgious,  who  has  been 
fumbling  in  his  pockets,  "  here  is  the  first  monthly 
payment." 

He  is  so  painfully  conscious  of  the  unbusiness  nature 
of  this  act,  that  he  has  drawn  out  with  the  purse  his 
pocket-handkerchief,  and  now  noisily  applies  it  to  his 
nose. 

But  his  confusion  is  as  nothing  compared  to  that 


30  A    GREAT    MYSTERY    SOLVED 

of  the  stranger.  With  a  violent  rush  of  colour,  that 
might  have  been  shame,  to  his  pallid  face,  and  with  a 
convulsed  lip,  as  if  he  were  keeping  back  by  force  a 
rush  of  words  as  violent  which  struggled  to  free  them 
selves,  he  faintly  raises  a  deprecatory  hand  ;  then, 
as  if  yielding  to  fate  stronger  than  his  will,  he  accepts 
the  money. 

"  It  would  be  useless  to  make  further  assurances," 
he  says,  "  but  may  God  bless  you,  sir,  and  help  me  to 
serve  you  as  you  deserve  to  be  served." 

Mr.  Grewgious,  accompanying  his  newly-engaged 
substitute  for  the  never-to-be-forgotten  Bazzard,  lets 
him  out.  Waiting  to  see  him  cross  Staple  Inn,  and 
pass  out  of  the  gateway,  which  the  porter  opens  for 
the  purpose,  he  falls  into  a  short  reverie,  smoothing 
his  smooth  head  perplexedly  ;  then,  turning,  goes  back 
slowly  and  meditatively  to  his  solitary  apartment. 

A  fancy  which  has  been  vaguely  haunting  him  all 
through  the  interview  and  which  now,  as  he  sits  ex 
hausted  in  his  easy  chair,  assumes  gigantic  proportions, 
troubles  him. 

"  What  is  it,"  he  thinks,  "  in  this  stranger,  upon 
whom  I  have  never  set  eyes  before,  to  my  knowledge, 
which  has  kept  reminding  me  all  the  evening  of  the 
dead  lad  in  his  unknown  grave  ?  It  is  not  his  height, 
or  figure,  for  this  man  is  taller  and  thinner.  It  is  not 
the  colour  of  his  hair,  for  young  Drood's  was  brown, 
and  his  dark  as  night.  It  is  not  his  face,  for  the  lost 
boy's  was  as  bright  and  fresh  as  a  fine  morning  in  May, 
and  his  sombre  and  pallid,  like  that  of  a  man  risen  from 
the  grave.  It  is  not  his  eyes,  for  I  could  see  nothing 
of  them  through  those  hideous  spectacles.  It  is  his 
voice,  perhaps  ;  yet  I  cannot  tell,  for  it  seems  an 
indignity  and  insult  to  the  dead  boy  to  compare  the 
two,  one  of  which  was  as  clear  as  the  fresh  song  of 
the  blackbird,  while  the  other  sounds  as  mournful  and 
tuneless  as  the  cry  of  that  bird  of  night  and  mystery— 
the  owl." 


MR,    GREWGIOUS'S    NEW   CLERK         31 

He  rises  to  light  his  evening  lamp,  and  let  down  his 
blind,  but  still  the  merciless  thoughts  haunt  and  worry 
him,  refuse  to  be  satisfied  with  his  concession,  show  no 
sympathy  with  the  weariness  of  his  body,  and  clamor 
ously  demand  an  audience.  His  head  is  bowed  and 
his  face  is  sorely  troubled,  as  he  listens  perforce  to 
what  they  insist  on  saying. 

"  I  was  hard  with  him  that  last  time,  too  hard  I  fear, 
yet  God  knows  I  only  meant  to  do  my  duty.  How  his 
colour  changed,  and  his  lip  quivered,  as  I — and  who  am 
I,  to  presume  to  set  myself  up  as  judge  in  such  a  matter  ? 
— gave  him  my  uncalled  for,  and,  perhaps,  mistaken 
notion  of  what  a  true  lover  ought  to  feel.  Yet  I  do 
not  think  I  was  mistaken  ;  I  do  not  think  I  was." 

His  head  is  bowed  still  lower,  and  his  mien  is  still 
sadder  and  more  dejected  when  the  next  thought 
begins. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  shall  ever  see  her  ring  again  !  Ah 
me,  who  can  tell  me  where  it  may  now  be  lying ! 
Shall  I  succeed  in  finding  it  ?  If  I  do,  I  shall  find  out 
something  else  besides  ;  something  to  which  I  have 
dedicated  my  life.  For  I  charged  him  by  the  living 
and  by  the  dead,  to  bring  back  that  ring  to  me,  if  it 
were  not  placed  on  Rosa's  finger  ;  and  I  know,  I  know, 
that  he  would  have  done  it  if  he  had  lived.  Shall  I 
see  the  day  when  I  shall  have  hunted  down  the 
murderer,  and  avenged  the  lad's  death  ?  Y\~hen  I 
do,  something  tells  me  I  shall  find  her  ring  again." 

The  next  thought  comes  with  a  burst,  rushing  to 
the  attack. 

"  I  do  not  repent  what  I  have  done,  for  the  dead 
lad's  sake.  What  a  strange  quiver  and  thrill  there 
was  in  his  voice,  as  he  asked  me  if  I  could  not  feel  and 
hear  that  he  was  honest.  I  think  I  could  ;  I  do  not 
repent  what  I  have  done,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  not 
sleep  the  worse  for  it  to-night." 


CHAPTER    III 

INSIDE  THE  BILLICKIN'S 

SOME  very  warm  contentions  between  Miss  Twinkleton 
and  the  Billickin,  which  had  resulted,  as  usual,  in  the 
utter  discomfiture  of  the  former,  though  nothing  would 
have  induced  her  to  admit  it,  had  so  oppressed  little 
Rosa  on  the  hot  summer  day,  that  her  girlish  face, 
looking  disconsolately  out  upon  the  neighbours  from 
the  open  window  of  the  best  parlour,  had  an  expression 
of  care  which  would  have  troubled  her  guardian — had 
he  been  there  to  see  it — to  the  depths  of  his  honest 
heart.  The  announcement  that  Mr.  Crisparkle  had 
called  was  heard  with  joy.  He  came  forward  gaily 
as  she  entered,  holding  out  both  hands  to  greet  her  ; 
and  at  the  sight  of  his  honest,  kindly  face,  a  great  sob 
rose  up  chokingly  in  the  throat  of  the  solitary  girl, 
and  tears  she  could  not  repress  rose  to  her  eyes,  spark 
ling  there  like  jewels  in  the  light  of  her  welcoming  smile. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Crisparkle,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  ! 
You  come  like  a  breath  of  fresh  country  air,  after  the 
close  dullness  of  this  great  weary  city.  And  how  is 
Mrs.  Crisparkle,  and  everybody  else  in  dear  old  Cloister- 
ham  ?  Ah,  how  long  the  time  has  seemed  since  I 
ran  away  from  it !  and  how  much  I  should  like  to  go 
back  again,  if — if — 

As  she  faltered  and  hesitated,  dreading  to  give 
utterance  to  the  hated  name,  the  Minor  Canon,  keenly 
watching  her  troubled  face,  saw  how  grave  and  even 
sad  its  expression  had  become. 

There  was  a  shadow,  as  of  pain,  under  the  dark  eyes, 
which  gave  them  a  depth  and  womanly  earnestness, 

32 


INSIDE   THE   BILLICKIN'S  33 

strange  and  new  to  them  ;  the  small  mouth,  slightly 
lowered  at  the  corners — not  peevishly,  but  sadly — 
was  irresolute  and  nervous,  and  the  childish  roundness 
of  the  cheeks  had  lengthened  into  a  more  perfect  oval. 
Yet  so  innocent  and  childlike  still  were  the  sweet  face 
and  wistful  eyes,  that  Mr.  Crisparkle  had  to  remind 
himself  that  the  little  creature  before  him  was  a  woman 
now,  and  a  child  no  longer,  or  he  would  have  been 
tempted  to  take  the  innocent  face  between  his  strong 
man's  hands  and  kiss  away  the  trouble  settling  there. 

"  I  have  come  to  talk  to  you  about  that,"  he  began 
gravely.  "  There  is  no  need,  dear  Miss  Bud,  for  you 
to  remain  away  from  Cloisterham  any  longer  on  his 
account,  for  he  has  given  up  his  situation  there,  and 
gone  away  for  good.  Another  music-master  has  already 
taken  his  place,  and  leads  the  choir  in  our  venerable 
Cathedral/' 

Rosa's  cheek  had  blanched  a  little  as  the  Minor 
Canon  referred  to  the  dreaded  man,  and  she  drew 
involuntarily  closer  to  him,  as  if  for  protection  ;  but 
the  clergyman  could  not  ascertain  whether  the  horrible 
suspicion  which  haunted  him  raised  any  echo  in  her 
breast. 

The  fear  and  abhorrence  which  overcame  her  even 
at  the  mention  of  that  man  might  merely  be  the  result 
of  his  unreturned  and  terrible  love  for  her,  and  nothing 
more.  Yet  her  shrewd  perception  had  come  to  a 
conclusion  and  settled  in  her  mind  the  true  state  of 
things,  while  his  was  still  wandering  in  darkness. 

But  that  she  feared  even  to  think  of  the  horrors 
of  the  past,  she  might,  perhaps,  have  spoken  ;  but 
womanly  pride  and  womanly  terror  kept  her  lips 
closed,  and  the  mystery  that  had  gathered  so  darkly 
round  the  lost  boy,  must  remain  a  mystery  until  man's 
patient  search  and  patient  watching  had  found  the 
clue. 

Mr.  Crisparkle  spoke  no  word  and  gave  no  sign. 
Yet  he,  too,  set  himself  on  the  side  of  the  watchers — 
D 


34  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

watching  and  waiting  till  the  time  of  disclosure  should 
come. 

"  Oh,  I  am  quite  forgetting  Miss  Twinkleton," 
suddenly  exclaimed  Rosa,  recalled  to  a  sense  of  the 
trust  reposed  in  her.  "  We  must  go  upstairs  at  once, 
Mr.  Crisparkle.  She  will  be  fidgetting  herself  to  skin 
and  bone  as  to  what  has  become  of  me,  and  who  else 
is  here  alone  with  me  in  the  back  parlour.  Oh,  dear 
me  !  "  said  Rosa,  with  dimpling  cheeks,  and  tossing 
back  her  bright  hair,  "  what  a  fuss  poor  dear  Miss 
Twinkleton  will  be  in  !  " 

"  Let  us  at  once  relieve  her  anxiety,"  said  the  gallant 
Minor  Canon,  smiling,  though  not  without  a  prick  of 
conscience  at  having  forgotten  to  enquire  for  that 
estimable  lady.  "  My  motto,  and  I  hope  my  practice 
is,  never  to  keep  a  lady  waiting." 

And  yet,  as  he  followed  the  sedate  little  maiden, 
with  that  shower  of  soft,  wavy  hair,  he  was  mentally 
calculating  how  much  weariness  it  might  have  taken 
to  have  so  quickly  subdued  her  childish  impetuosity 
and  to  have  ripened ^her  so  speedily  into  a  woman. 

"  No  need  to  enquire  after  your  health,  Miss  Twinkle- 
ton,  for,  as  I  see,  you  are  blooming  wonderfully  here 
in  London,  casting  us  poor  country  folks  quite  into 
shadow." 

"  You  find  me,  sir,"  rejoined  Miss  Twinkleton,  in 
whose  virgin  breast  the  venomous  arrows  cast  by  the 
Billickin  still  rankled,  "  in  a  state  of  mind  not  calcu 
lated,  according  to  my  poor  opinion,  to  renovate  or 
invigorate  the  body.  And  the  flush  you  observe  on 
my  countenance,"  she  continued,  with  some  sharpness, 
"  is  by  no  means  occasioned — as  you  seem  to  imagine 
— by  robust  health,  but  is  rather  the  natural  and 
inevitable  result  of  the  daily  conflict  which  I  have  to 
maintain  with  the  person  of  the  house." 

Now  it  happened  that  in  acknowledging  this  fact, 
which  her  dignity  would  have  sought  to  ignore — for 
can  a  philosopher  stoop  to  dispute  with  his  laundress, 


INSIDE   THE    BILLICKIN'S  35 

or  a  prince  with  his  valet  ? — Miss  Twinkleton  s  feelings 
ran  away  with  her  discretion,  as  has  occurred  once  or 
twice,  perhaps,  to  others  before  her,  therefore  becoming 
suddenly  aware  that  she  had  somewhat  betrayed  her 
weakness,  she  coloured  still  more  deeply,  bit  her  lips 
a  little  savagely,  and  fanned  herself  more  energetically 
than  ever. 

Rather  discomfited,  for  he  could  not  but  see  that 
he  had  roughened  the  way,  instead  of  smoothing  it, 
the  Minor  Canon  inwardly  and  wisely  determined  never 
again  to  pay  a  compliment  without  being  sure  of  its 
being  well  received  beforehand.  He  was  then  under 
stood  to  remark,  that  colour,  like  many  other  things, 
was  often  deceptive,  and  while  expressing  his  sympathy 
with  the  lady's  sufferings,  offered  himself  as  her  cham 
pion  against  the  offending  landlady,  with  somewhat 
superfluous  energy. 

But  his  assurances  were  brought  to  an  untimely 
end  by  Rosa's  clear  laugh  which,  ringing  through  the 
room  and  out  into  the  hot,  sunshiny  street,  sounded, 
for  the  moment,  almost  as  merry  and  lighthearted  as 
in  the  old  days  at  Cloisterham.  She  was  imagining 
the  Revd.  Septimus  Crisparkle,  Minor  Canon  in 
Cloisterham,  in  a  wordy  conflict  with  the  Billickin 
— the  vigour  of  the  onset,  and  the  completeness  of  the 
defeat. 

Rosa's  clear  laugh  was  so  infectious,  that  the  Minor 
Canon  caught  it  on  the  spot,  in  spite  of  Miss  Twinkle- 
ton's  antidotal  nods,  and  waves  of  the  hand ;  he  was 
so  glad  to  see  sunshine  again  in  the  girl's  sorrowful 
face.  Miss  Twinkleton  sat  smileless,  in  sedate  and 
offended  dignity,  waving  them  back  into  propriety 
again. 

"It  is  in  very  bad  taste,  my  dear,"  she  said,  with 
severity,  addressing  Rosa,  but  glancing  sideways  at 
the  abashed  Minor  Canon,  who  hung  his  head  far  more 
like  a  frightened  schoolgirl  than  did  Rosa,  who  didn't 
seem  to  mind  it  much,  "  to  burst  out  into  a  fit  of  laugh- 


36  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

ter,  without  beforehand  explaining  the  reason  why. 
It  is  always  unladylike  to  laugh  loudly  ;  a  gentle  smile 
is  the  utmost  in  which  a  gentlewoman  should  indulge, 
and  then  only  when  the  example  is  given  her.  To 
laugh,  and  particularly  to  laugh  loudly,  is  decidedly 
vulgar,  and  shows  a  lamentable  want  of  refinement." 

During  the  delivery  of  this  homily,  Miss  Twinkleton 
seemed  to  be  recovering  her  lost  spirits  amazingly  ; 
and  the  sight  of  the  prostrate  Minor  Canon  proved  so 
complete  a  balsam  for  her  wounded  self-esteem,  that 
she  became  quite  precept orially  gay. 

"  Why,  I  might  have  thought,"  she  said  quite  good 
humouredly,  though  with  the  manner  of  one  to  whom 
the  notion  of  such  audacity  never  could  really  have 
occurred,  "  that  you  were  laughing  at  me." 

This  so  nearly  set  Rosa  off  again,  that  only  the  sight 
of  the  distressed  Minor  Canon  prevented  a  fresh  burst. 
She  hastened  to  come  to  his  rescue  and  explain. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  dear  Miss  Twinkleton.  You 
know  I  always  was  a  silly  thing,  and  I  could  not  help 
thinking  how  funny  it  would  be  to  see  Mr.  Crisparkle 
and  Mrs.  Billickin  in  a  discussion,  for  you  know,  he 
\vould  have  the  worst  of  it  in  next  to  no  time." 

"  So  I  had  better  not  try,"  said  the  Minor  Canon, 
"  but  keep  clear  of  this  formidable  woman.  There 
are  times  when  discretion  is  the  better  part  of  valour. 
And  you  can't  knock  a  woman  down  after  all,  however 
much  she  may  deserve  it ;  even  if  knocking  down  were, 
under  any  circumstances,  consistent  with  my  cloth." 

"  No,"  said  Rosa,  "  but  she  might  knock  you  down, 
and  when  she  had,  oh,  how  she  would  trample  on  you, 
and  buffet  you  !  She  doesn't  know  what  mercy  means, 
and  her  only  notion  of  a  fallen  adversary  is,  that  she 
has  him  more  completely  in  her  power." 

"  You  make  my  flesh  creep." 

"  Then  you  will  have  some  sympathy  with  our 
sufferings,  and  some  notion  of  what  we  have  been 
enduring,"  said  Rosa,  mischievously  glancing  at  Miss 


INSIDE   THE   BILLICKIN'S  37 

Twinkleton,  upon  whose  intellectual  brow  the  scat 
tered  shadows  had  returned  since  the  mention  of  the 
landlady's  baleful  name.  "But,  hush!  I  hear  her 
on  the  stairs." 

The  sudden  glance  of  terror  which  Miss  Twinkleton 
cast  at  the  door,  was  so  spontaneous  and  involuntary, 
that  it  spoke  volumes.  This  excellent  instructress  of 
youth,  so  formidable  in  the  eyes  of  defaulting  members 
of  the  Nuns'  House,  conscious  of  unlearned  lessons  ; 
or  tart  crumbs  in  their  beds ;  or  of  stray  glances  cast 
during  church  service  towards  some  member  of  the 
masculine  half  of  youth  in  the  sanctuary,  had  evidently 
found  more  than  her  match  in  the  Billickin.  Fortunately 
the  alarm  was  a  false  one.  It  was  only  the  housemaid 
with  a  letter  ;  but  it  set  Miss  Twinkleton  to  vindicating 
her  character,  and  clearing  herself  from  the  barest 
suspicion  of  cowardice. 

"  I  am  sure,"  she  said,  after  a  pause,  during  which 
she  affected  to  be  examining  the  post  mark  on  the 
letter,  but  in  reality  was  composing  her  agitated  coun 
tenance,  which  still  showed  an  untoward  propensity  to 
twitch,  "  that  Mr.  Crisparkle  will  not  suppose  me  to 
be  capable  of  entertaining  that  weak  and  unworthy 
sentiment,  denominated  fear,  of  a  person  so  far  removed 
from  me  in  the  social  scale,  and  whose  feeble  imper 
tinences,  which  Rosa  much  exaggerates,  I  could,  if  I 
would,  crush  instantaneously  (Mr.  Crisparkle  caught 
himself  wondering  why  she  wouldn't).  We  are  not 
afraid,"  continued  Miss  Twinkleton,  in  a  sprightlier 
tone,  "of  a  mosquito  or  a  gnat,  though  it  stings; 
but  we  do  not  expose  ourselves  voluntarily  to  their 
tiny  instruments  of  torture." 

Mr.  Crisparkle  was  eagerly  about  to  adduce  various 
experiences  of  his  own  in  this  respect,  and  to  relate 
anecdotes  of  times  and  seasons  when  he  had  been  stung 
by  both  mosquitoes  and  gnats.  He  was  even  going 
further  to  explain  that  some  naturalists  were  of  opinion 
that  the  only  difference  between  these  two  small  plagues 


38  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

was  a  difference  of  climate — when  Miss  Twinkleton 
waved  him  into  silence  again.  It  was  astounding  how 
ill  at  ease  the  Minor  Canon  felt,  and  with  what  difficulty 
appropriate  words  rose  to  his  tongue,  but  it  was  a 
peculiarity  of  this  excellent  lady  speedily  to  reduce 
gentlemen  to  this  condition,  and  bring  down  their 
opinion  of  themselves  to  a  minimum. 

"  My  position  in  Cloisterham  ought  to  be  a 
guarantee,  and  I  hope  is,  that  I  know  how  to  maintain 
my  authority,  and  uphold  my  dignity  under  all  circum 
stances,"  continued  Miss  Twinkleton,  extremely 
anxious  to  re-establish  herself  in  his  opinion.  "  The 
young  ladies  in  my  establishment,  although  invariably 
treated  with  the  most  judicious  kindness  (which  does 
not  consist  in  pampering  their  foolish  fancies)  and 
discreet  indulgence,  when  they  have  committed  any 
little  fault  or  indiscretion,  tremble  in  my  presence  ; 
not  from  fear  of  correction,  but  at  the  glance  of  my 
reproving  eye." 

It  was  well  for  naughty  Rosa,  that  that  self -same  eye 
was  severely  directed  towards  the  opposite  houses, 
and  heedless  of  her,  for  she  was  wickedly  gesticulating 
with  an  imaginary  rod  right  before  the  nose  of  the 
Minor  Canon,  who  was  coughing  suspiciously  behind 
his  open  hand.  But  when  Miss  Twinkleton  looked 
round,  before  continuing,  they  were  both  regarding 
her  with  grave  and  respectful  attention. 

"  The  domestics  employed  in  my  institution  are 
accustomed  implicitly  to  obey  my  directions  with  a 
reverence  not  unmixed  with  awe  ;  the  masters  accom 
modate  themselves  invariably  to  my  regulations,  and 
testify  for  me  on  all  occasions  a  deep  and  heartfelt 
respect.  One  master,  a  Frenchman,  said  '  it  made  him 
shiver  to  look  at  me  '  ;  naturally,  on  those  occasions, 
when  his  native  levity  had  caused  him  to  depart 
from  that  staid  and  sober  deportment  which  my  regu 
lations  direct.  I  am  confident,"  concluded  Miss 
Twinkleton,  looking  at  the  Minor  Canon  with  a  frigid 


INSIDE  THE   BILLICKIN'S  39 

challenge  to  contradict  her  if  he  dared,  and  causing 
him,  particularly  in  the  small  of  the  back,  to  participate 
in  the  sentiment  of  the  Frenchman,  "  that  you  do  not 
doubt  my  ability  to  cope  with  the  person  of  the  house, 
if  I  should  choose  to  abase  myself  to  the  effort." 

Mr.  Crisparkle's  frosty  condition  thawed  a  little 
under  the  warmth  of  his  assurances  that  he  did  not. 
He  seemed  willing  to  assert  this,  and  stick  to  it,  in  the 
face  of  a  contradictory  world. 

"  Therefore,"  continued  Miss  Twinkleton,  in  a 
milder  tone,  "  the  resolution  which  I  have  already 
communicated  to  Rosa,  and  which  now  I  repeat  to  you, 
to  the  effect  that  we  must  change  our  place  of  abode, 
is  not  occasioned  by  puerile  cowardice,  or  fear  of  any 
human  being  whatever,  still  less  of  the  upstart  person 
of  the  house.  But  mosquitoes  bite  and  gnats  sting," 
said  Miss  Twinkleton,  returning  to  her  former  simile 
with  the  smile  of  a  gentlewoman,  "  and  instead  of 
crushing  these  creatures — which,  no  doubt,  have  their 
usefulness  in  the  all-wise  order  of  things — let  us  go 
to  a  place  where  they  are  not." 

"  Why,  that  is  odd,"  said  Mr.  Crisparkle,  "  or  rather, 
even,  for  it  fits  in  with  a  plan  of  mine  exactly,  or,  I 
should  say,  with  a  plan  of  ma's.  I  came  specially  to 
make  a  proposal  this  afternoon,  about  something  ma 
has  set  her  heart  on." 

He  glanced  at  Rosa  as  he  spoke.  The  childish 
burst  of  gaiety  was  over,  leaving  the  sadness,  which 
had  re-settled  on  the  young  face,  all  the  more  apparent 
after  it.  She  was  sitting  looking  listlessly  out  of  the 
window,  with  an  expression  of  profound  weariness. 
Mr.  Crisparkle's  face  grew  a  shade  less  cheerful  as  he 
enquired  if  Miss  Twinkleton  meant  to  go  back  to 
Cloisterham  at  once  ? 

"  No,  reverend  sir.  A  fortnight's  rest  from  toil  still 
remains  to  us  ;  a  fortnight's  pause  before  resuming 
those  arduous  labours  which,  though  dear,  often 
weigh  heavily  upon  us — poor,  yet  proud,  educators 


40  A  GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

of  our  sex.  You  find  me,  now  that  the  flush  has 
faded,  pale.  You  find  Rosa  pale.  I  have  thought  of 
spending  these  few  fleeting  days  at  the  sea-side.  I 
have  thought  of  Brighton,  if  Mr.  Grewgious  should 
approve.  The  sea  breeze  will  give  us  back  our  faded 
roses.  Strengthened  in  body,  invigorated  in  soul,  we 
then  return  to  Cloisterham." 

Miss  Twinkleton  was  not  particularly  referring  to 
Rosa  when  she  used  the  word  "  we,"  which  she  did  in 
an  editorial  sort  of  wray,  and  as  an  enhancement  of  her 
personal  dignity.  Satisfied,  apparently,  that  she  had 
sufficiently  asserted  herself,  and  proved  her  invincibility, 
she  now  appeared  in  a  new  and  startling  light,  wherein 
she  seemed  to  the  alarmed  Minor  Canon  still  more 
appalling,  and  under  the  influence  of  which  he  grew 
hot,  instead  of  shivery. 

"  Ah,  dear  sir !  "  she  said,  letting  her  faded  blue 
eyes  rest  upon  him,  with  a  shade  of  sadness,  "  believe 
me,  there  are  times  when  we  poor,  maligned  educators 
of  our  sex — forced  into  the  position  by  a  stern  destiny 
— would  gladly  indulge  in  those  little  weaknesses  which 
other  women  have  so  large  a  right  to  enjoy  ;  there  are 
times  (after  school  hours,  and  in  the  privacy  of  our 
own  apartments)  when  we  would  gladly  lay  down  our 
arms  and  become  weak.  For  the  improvement  of  our 
own  sex  we  learn  to  suffer  and  be  strong.  But,  alas  ! 
strength  is  apt  to  be  viewed  by  you  gentlemen  as  an 
unwomanly  attribute  in  the  fair  sex.  Weakness  is, 
after  all,  our  only  available  weapon  in  contending 
with  you." 

With  a  sigh,  half  too  real,  half  sentimentally  called 
into  being  for  the  occasion,  Miss  Twinkleton  looked 
dreamily  out  of  the  open  window,  as  if  wondering  if 
ever,  or  how  soon,  her  implacable  destiny  would  allow 
her  to  make  use  of  that  formidable  weakness  for  the 
destruction  of  the  male  portion  of  mankind  in  general, 
and  of  Minor  Canons  in  particular  ;  while  he  began  to 
feel  that  it  was  high  time  he  should  go. 


INSIDE   THE   BILLICKIN'S  41 

"  I  think  your  plan  of  removing  to  Brighton  for  the 
next  fortnight,"  he  said,  "is  an  excellent  one  ;  and 
I  feel  almost  sure  that  Mr.  Grewgious  will  consent  to  it 
on  behalf  of  his  ward.  But  a  fortnight  is  soon  over, 
and  then — and  that  is  the  question  which  brought  me 
here  to-day — what  is  to  become  of  Miss  Bud  ?  " 

"  I  have  thought  of  that.  Of  all  my  pupils,  no 
one  has  ever  had  so  strong  a  hold  on  my  affections  as 
the  orphan  child  who  knew  no  other  home  than  mine. 
I  never  thought  of  her  quitting  it  but  for  the  home 
and  heart  of  her  affianced  husband.  The  terrible  fate 
which  has  separated  them  has  upset  all  our  plans  for 
her  future  ;  but  the  time  will  come  when  some  one 
else  will  find  out  the  attractions  of  my  pretty  one  ; 
and  time,  too,  will  heal  her  sorrows,  and  prepare  her  to 
accept  another.  Until  such  time,  let  her,  if  she  will, 
return  with  me  to  the  Nuns'  House  ;  not  as  a  pupil,  of 
course,  but  as  a  beloved  and  cherished  young  friend. 
Rosa,  my  love,  I  am  proposing  to  Mr.  Crisparkle  that 
you  should  come  and  live  with  me  for  the  present  at 
the  Nuns'  House.  Would  you  like  to  do  so  ?  " 

With  a  loving,  grateful  gesture  Rosa  took  Miss 
Twinkleton's  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  but  her 
wistful  eyes  were  turned  towards  Mr.  Crisparkle,  be 
seeching  him  to  give  utterance  to  the  negative,  which 
her  loving  lips  hesitated  to  pronounce.  He  understood 
and  hastened  to  her  assistance. 

"  I  was  going  to  beg  you,  dear  madam,"  he  began, 
"  to  allow  Miss  Bud  to  accompany  me  to  Mr.  Grew 
gious  on  a  little  matter  of  business,  and  we  will  lay  your 
kind  offer  before  his  consideration.  I  have  a  proposal 
to  make  on  my  own  account  too,  or,  as  I  should  say, 
on  ma's,  and  the  decision  must  rest,  of  course,  with  him, 
as  Miss  Bud's  guardian." 

Miss  Twinkleton  giving  her  gracious  permission  to 
this,  Rosa  withdrew  to  make,  ready,  returning  in  a 
few  minutes  looking  so  sweet  and  fair  that  the  Revd. 
Septimus  would  have  been  hardly  a  man  had  he  not 


42  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

secretly  congratulated  himself  on  his  good  fortune  in 
being  permitted  to  escort  so  charming  a  girl.  And 
when  she  slipped  her  little  hand  within  his  arm,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  they  passed  out  together  into 
the  hot  and  dusty  street,  his  complacency  was  at  its 
height. 


CHAPTER    IV 

A    SELFISH    PROPOSAL 

"  THAT  is  a  very  excellent  lady !  "  said  the  Minor 
Canon,  gravely,  as  he  and  Rosa  paced  the  dusty  streets 
together. 

"  And  I  love  her  dearly,"  responded  Rosebud, 
raising  her  face  wistfully  to  Mr.  Crisparkle's,  "  she 
has  always  been  a  kind  and  true  friend  to  me." 

Having  thus  relieved  their  somewhat  burdened 
conscience,  the  two  relapsed  into  silence.  That  part 
of  Holborn  through  which  they  were  passing  was 
thronged  with  people,  seeking  towards  evening  that 
which  the  hot  and  thunderous  atmosphere  of  the  day 
had  failed  to  yield  them,  a  breath  of  cooling  air.  Dust 
lay  thick  everywhere,  upon  the  hot  and  stifling  houses, 
with  windows  and  doors  wide  open,  as  if  they,  too, 
were  panting  for  fresh  air  ;  upon  the  burning  pavement, 
where  the  heated  and  irritated  passers-by  jostled  and 
crowded  one  another ;  upon  the  pale  faced,  peevish 
children,  dragging  back  reluctantly  from  the  hands 
which  led  them  ;  upon  the  perspiring  shopmen,  who 
having  nothing  else  to  do,  peered  out  of  every  available 
opening,  perhaps  speculating  upon  the  chance  of  some 
stray  breeze,  fresh  from  the  river,  or  from  the  still 
more  distant  ocean,  having  lost  its  way  and  wandered 
there ;  upon  the  rattling  omnibuses,  empty  inside, 
but  doubly  piled  up  without ;  upon  the  foaming 
horses,  bathed  in  sweat  ;  upon  the  suffering  passengers, 
grumbling  and  grimy ;  upon  the  tarts  and  jellies  at 
the  confectioners,  where  it  struggled  for  the  supremacy 
with  myriads  of  gorging  and  gluttonous  flies ;  upon 

43 


44  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

the  ices,  even  in  the  short  interval  between  their 
being  made  and  consumed ;  upon  the  sturdy  policemen 
at  the  corners  of  the  streets  ;  even  upon  Rosa's  pretty 
bonnet,  and  the  Minor  Canon's  own  clerical  black  suit, 
which  on  the  road  had  turned  to  iron-grey.  Every 
whiff  or  faint  apology  for  a  breeze  brought  the  inevit 
able  dust  along  with  it ;  every  rattle  of  the  piled-up 
omnibuses  and  the  jaded  cabs  showered  it  upon  the 
crowd.  Gritty,  grindy,  dusty  High  Holborn,  defied 
even  the  watermen  with  their  watering  barrels,  and 
laughed  to  scorn  every  attempt  to  make  it  other  than 
it  was.  Very  glad  indeed  was  Mr.  Crisparkle  to  get  his 
charge  safely  out  of  this  highly-populated  Sahara 
into  the  comparatively  cool  oasis  of  Staple  Inn. 

Coming  out  of  the  gateway  as  they  entered  was 
a  man,  so  white-faced  and  sombre,  so  shadow-like 
and  spectral,  that  Rosa  passing  him,  uttered  a  little 
cry.  Strange  to  say,  this  cry  was  repeated,  echoed  by 
the  man  himself.  Perhaps  she  had  startled  him  ; 
perhaps  something  else  was  agitating  him,  for  he 
staggered  heavily  and  would  have  fallen  but  that 
Mr.  Crisparkle' s  strong  arm  caught  and  held  him. 

Strange  to  see,  this  sombre  man,  without  a  word  of 
thanks,  without  a  syllable  of  acknowledgment,  or 
explanation,  almost  wrenched  himself  from  the  Minor 
Canon's  strong  support,  and  covering  his  face,  went 
his  way.  He  walked  so  unsteadily  and  falteringly, 
that  the  Minor  Canon,  who  had  turned  in  surprise  to 
watch  him,  thought  he  would  have  fallen  again,  but 
he  kept  on  and  never  looked  back.  Then  the  Revd. 
Septimus,  turning  to  Rosa,  saw  that  she  too  was  deadly 
pale,  tremblingly  clinging  to  his  arm. 

*'  The  man  frightened  you,"  he  said.  "  No  wonder. 
He  must  have  been  drunk." 

"  It  was  like  a  ghost,"  she  answered,  shivering, 
and  added  under  her  breath,  "  like  the  ghost  of  Eddy  !  " 

"  This  is  a  most  unexpected  pleasure,"  so  Mr. 
Grewgious  welcomed  them,  "  and  to  what  most  fortun- 


A   SELFISH   PROPOSAL  45 

ate  combination  of  circumstances  am  I  indebted 
for  it  ?  I  was  sitting  here,  after  a  hard  day's  work, 
in  a  state  of  melt — if  so  hard-favoured  a  man  as  I 
am  may  be  allowed  to  participate  in  the  general 
condition  of  humanity,  on  this  tropical  occasion — and 
my  mind  reverted,  naturally  reverted,  to  my  ward,  to 
my  charming  ward,  who  occupies  so  much,  nay,  nearly 
all,  of  my  leisure  opportunities  for  thought,  but  I  never 
imagined  her  so  near." 

Rosa  raised  his  hard  hand  to  her  soft  lips,  with  a 
pretty  apologetic  expression  in  her  still  agitated  face. 

"  My  dear,"  responded  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  my  hand 
hardly  knows  how  to  deport  itself  under  so  much 
honour.  Really,"  he  continued,  viewing  that  member 
with  admiration,  as  if  her  gentle  kiss  had  transformed  it 
into  pure  gold,  or  sparkling  diamonds,  "  you  must 
never  do  that  again,  my  dear,  you  really  must  not ; 
for  my  hand  would  then,  I  feel  sure,  refuse  ever  to 
work,  on  plea  of  having  become  ennobled. 

Rosa  smiling  at  this,  and  Mr.  Crisparkle  laughing 
heartily,  Mr.  Grewgious  came  back  to  a  sense  of  his 
responsibility  as  host. 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  and  take  off  your 
hat,  and  we  will  consider  what  refreshment  would  be 
most  suitable  to  the  occasion.  Would  you  like  a  glass 
of  lemonade  or  iced  champagne  ;  or  would  you  prefer 
anything  else  whatever  ?  " 

Rosa  wanted  nothing  ;  they  were  come  on  business  ; 
at  least  Mr.  Crisparkle  had  said  so. 

"  But  business,  my  dear,"  expostulated  Mr.  Grew 
gious,  "is  so  very  dry  a  subject,  particularly  for  a 
young  lady,  that  it  will  be  absolutely  necessary  to 
moisten  it  with  something.  My  clerk,  my  new  clerk, 
who  has  come  in  the  place  of  Mr.  Bazzard,  is  just  gone 
home — you  must  almost  have  met  him,  I  should  think 
— or  I  could  have  asked  him  to  run  over  to  Furnival's, 
though  now  I  come  to  consider  it,  I  really  do  not  think 
I  should  have  liked  to  do  so,  he  is  so  much  the  gentle- 


46  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

man.  Bazzard  was  a  gentleman  too,  there  is  no  doubt 
about  that,  of  course,  a  gentleman  and  a  genius ; 
but  this  one  is  so  much  more  the  gentleman,  that 
perhaps  it  is  fortunate  that  he  is  gone;  for,  on 
consideration,  I  really  should  not  like  to  have  asked 
him.  So  if  you  will  excuse  me  for  a  moment,  and  I 
shall  only  be  a  moment,  I  assure  you,  then  I  will  go 
myself." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  and  before  they  had 
time  to  stop  him,  he  was  gone,  bareheaded ;  and  before 
they  had  time  to  think  about  his  being  gone,  was  back 
again. 

"  There,"  he  exclaimed,  panting,  seating  himself  with 
much  deliberation  in  his  easy  chair,  and  mopping 
energetically  the  huge  drops  of  moisture  from  his  face  ; 
"  there,  my  dear,  what  do  you  say  to  that,  for  an 
angular  man  ?  Why,  it's  the  lovely  presence  in  my 
room  which  oils  my  bones,  lubricates  my  stiff  joints, 
and  makes  me  active  and  alert  as  a  lad  in  his  teens. 
Furnival's  are  most  attentive,  and  will  be  here  directly, 
my  love,  with  your  iced  champagne,  and  while  you  are 
cooling  yourself  with  that,  we — my  reverend  friend 
and  myself — will  cool  ourselves  with  something 
heavier." 

"  You  are  too  kind,"  said  the  Revd.  Septimus, 
smiling,  "  and  I  feel  quite  ashamed  to  give  you  so  much 
trouble,  and  to  have  given  Miss  Bud  so  much  trouble 
on  this  hot,  dusty  day,  to  hear  only,  after  all,  a  selfish 
proposal  of  mine." 

"  Selfish !  "  echoed  Mr.  Grewgious,  thoughtfully, 
"  that  would  be  quite  new  and  quite  unexpected, 
coming  from  you,  reverend  sir ;  would  it  not,  my 
dear  ?  " 

Rosa  nodded,  though  in  an  absent  sort  of  way, 
and  sipped  iced  champagne  which,  in  the  meantime, 
had  arrived,  accompanied  by  something  heavier  for 
the  gentlemen. 

Mr.  Grewgious  eyed  his  ward  thoughtfully  through 


A   SELFISH   PROPOSAL  47 

his  mopping  fingers,  and  eyed  her  again  still  more 
thoughtfully,  during  the  cooling  process  with  something 
heavier,  for  there  was  a  look  upon  her  face  which  he 
did  not  like  to  see  there. 

"  And  now,"  continued  Mr.  Grewgious,  after  a 
short  pause,  during  which  they  all  sipped,  or  watched 
the  dusty  sparrows  hopping  about  disconsolately  on 
the  dusty  pavement,  and  seeking  vainly  something 
cool,  or  something  green  ;  "  now,  reverend  sir,  if  you 
are  feeling  somewhat  better,  and  my  ward  is  refreshed, 
why,  I  am  too,  and  we  might  begin  either  with  that 
little  piece  of  business  you  spoke  of,  or  with  the  selfish 
proposal  you  are  about  to  make." 

With  a  strong  emphasis  on  the  word,  and  with  a 
twinkling  eye,  or  as  nearly  one  as  he  could  make  it, 
directed  towards  Rosa,  Mr.  Grewgious  endeavoured 
jocosely  to  draw  her  into  the  conversation;  but  her 
bright  eyes  remaining  fixed  intently  upon  the  sparkling 
wine,  Mr.  Grewgious'  eye  lost  its  twinkle,  and  he 
mopped  himself  again  profusely,  and  somewhat 
dejectedly. 

Mr.  Crisparkle  commenced  by  relating  all  that  had 
lately  happened  in  Cloisterham ;  dwelling  particularly 
upon  the  fact  that  Mr.  Jasper  had  resigned  his  situa 
tion  there,  and  had  taken  up  his  abode  for  the  present 
in  London. 

"  I  came  up  with  him  yesterday  morning,"  continued 
the  clergyman,  "  though  not  for  the  pleasure  of  his 
company ;  and  before  that  ma  and  I  had  a  long  talk 
together.  You  know,  Mr.  Grewgious,  that  un 
fortunately  ma  does  not  quite  agree  with  us  in  some 
particulars,  but  though  ma's  judgment  may  be  wrong 
sometimes,  her  heart  never  is,  and  when  I  mentioned 
it,  ma  was  quite  taken  with  it  directly,  and  begged 
me  to  lose  no  time  in  coming  up  and  speaking  to  you 
about  it ;  and  ma  hopes,  and  I  hope,  that  you  will 
agree  to  it,  and  that  Miss  Bud  may  approve  of  it, 
which  would  make  us  very  happy." 


48  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  I  have  no  doubt  whatever,"  interposed  Mr.  Grew- 
gious,  "  that  we  should  and  shall,  when  we  know  what 
4  it '  is  ;  and  as  we  are,  figuratively,  sitting  upon  thorns 
to  hear  it — though  it  does  not  become  me  to  attempt 
comparisons  ;  for  what  do  I  know  about  figures,  except 
those  in  my  counting-books,  and  as  for  thorns,  I  have 
had  enough  of  them  to  last  me  my  lifetime,  without 
introducing  'em  uncalled  for — I  am  sure  we  shall 
both  agree  in  begging  you  to  bring  '  it '  out  as  soon  as 
quite  convenient." 

Casting  a  cheerful  glance  at  his  ward,  and  encounter 
ing  only  a  downcast  and  troubled  little  face,  Mr. 
Grewgious  shook  his  head  remonstratingly  ;  and  then, 
apparently  fearing  it  had  become  terribly  ruffled, 
smoothed  it  the  wrong  way  so  energetically  that,  if 
at  all  electric,  it  must  have  emitted  sparks  of  fire. 

"  And  ma  thinks,  and  I  think,"  continued  Mr. 
Crisparkle,  who  was  far  too  much  in  earnest  with  his 
subject  to  notice  the  perturbation  of  Mr.  Grewgious 
or  the  silence  of  his  ward,  "  since  that  dreadful  man 
has  left  Cloisterham,  and  as  Miss  Bud  is  accustomed 
to  Cloisterham,  and  was  happy  there,  and  as  we  know 
that  you  are  still  undecided  as  to  where  she  shall  go  at 
the  end  of  the  holidays,  that  if  you  approved,  and  she 
approved,  she  might  come  to  us." 

Mr.  Grewgious,  brightening,  again  looked  at  Rosa, 
who,  very  pale,  and  with  a  doubtful,  pondering  look, 
and  anxious  and  knitted  little  brow,  seemed  so  absorbed 
in  her  own  thoughts  as  to  be  hardly  conscious  of  their 
presence,  and  even  yet  gave  no  response. 

"  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  said  'Mr.  Grewgious, 
with  troubled  earnestness,  "  I  thank  you  gratefully  ; 
as  far  as  my  ward  is  concerned,  I  should  have  thought 
that  such  a  proposal  would  have  met  with  her 
certain  and  full  approbation ;  but  she  is  silent.  She 
may  have  formed  other  plans  for  herself,  which 
it  will  be  our  duty  carefully  to  consider,  and  to  weigh 
thoroughly.  My  ward  is  silent — let  her  speak." 


A   SELFISH   PROPOSAL  49 

"  Minor  Canon  Corner,"  continued  Mr.  Crisparkle, 
still  cheerfully,  though  with  a  very  perceptible  fall 
in  his  voice,  "  is  a  quiet  spot.  I  have  never  found  it 
dull ;  but  a  young  lady  has  other  wishes  and  other 
wants  than  mine,  and  a  home  inhabited  by  an  old  lady 
and  a  middle-aged  clergyman  may  be — nay,  perhaps, 
must  be — dull,  and  have  too  little  brightness  for  her. 
Nevertheless,  I  must  say,  in  justice  to  myself,  that  ma 
and  I  had  not  forgotten  this,  and  had  planned  a  hundred 
little  plans  to  make  it  brighter,  and  as  Miss  Bud  would 
have  been  near  her  old  home,  and  among  her  old  friends, 
we  thought  it  might  have  met  with  her  approbation. 
I  may  say  also,  I  hope,  for  myself,  and  I  am  sure  I 
may  say  for  ma,  that  we  would  have  done  our  poor 
utmost  to  make  her  happy." 

Both  gentlemen  now  looked  at  Rosa.  Feeling  that, 
perhaps,  or  struck  by  the  sudden  silence,  she  started, 
changed  colour,  and,  looking  back  at  them  with  wide 
wondering  eyes,  came  to  herself  and  to  a  knowledge  of 
where  she  was. 

"  What  was  it  you  said  ?  "  she  asked,  pressing  a 
bewildered  and  trembling  little  hand  to  her  head.  "  I 
was  so  lost  in  thought  that  I  did  not  quite  understand 
you." 

"  Mr.  Crisparkle,  my  love,"  began  Mr.  Grewgious, 
"  has  proposed  your  returning  to  Cloisterham  and 
taking  up  your  abode  for  the  present  in  his  house. 
I  am  free  to  confess  that  my  mind  has  been  seeking 
anxiously  a  suitable  home  for  you,  and  has  come  to 
no  result.  Mr.  Crisparkle' s  offer — so  kind  and  generous 
—has  lightened  my  heart  of  a  load.  Nevertheless, 
the  decision  rests  with  you,  my  dear.  If  you  have 
formed  any  other  wish,  if  you  have  made  any  other 
plan,  or,  simply  if  you  have  any  objection  to  make  to 
this,  mention  it  freely." 

"  And  do  not  let  any  consideration  for  me,  or  any 
consideration  for  ma,"  put  in  the  Revd.  Septimus, 
his  honest  face  glowing  from  the  eagerness  with  which 
E 


50  A    GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

he  spoke,  "  influence  you  in  the  very  least ;  for, 
though,  of  course,  there  is  plenty  of  selfishness  in  our 
wishing  to  secure  so  much  brightness  for  our  quiet 
home,  yet  that  has  not  been  our  only  motive  either ; 
and  though  I  left  ma  wandering  from  room  to  room, 
uncertain  which  you  would  like  best,  and  in  a  state 
of  bewildered  delight  at  the  prospect  of  having,  as  it 
were,  a  little  daughter  to  care  for,  yet  we  would  not 
for  a  moment  wish  to  induce  you  to  act  in  opposition 
to  any  scheme  you  may  have  planned,  or  urge  you " 

"  But  you  will  let  me  thank  you,  will  you  not  ? " 
said  Rosa,  rising,  and  putting  both  her  hands  into 
those  of  the  delighted  clergyman,  "  and  you  will  let 
me  tell  you  that  if  I  could  have  my  choice  of  all  the 
happy  homes  in  happy  England,  there  is  not  one — 
there  is  not  one — that  I  would  choose  in  preference 
to  yours." 

Mr.  Grewgious'  puckered  face  smoothing  of  its  own 
accord  at  this,  he  considered  the  occasion  propitious 
for  smoothing  his  head  again,  and  did  so  (this  time  the 
right  way)  accordingly. 

"  And  if,"  continued  Rosa,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
"  if  one  who,  until  now,  has  only  been  a  trouble  and 
an  anxiety  to  all  about  her ;  who  till  now  has  only 
been  able  to  repay  with  love  and  affection — and  not 
always  with  enough  of  that — those  who  have  been  kind 
to  her,  dare  make  assurances,  then  take  hers  that  she 
will  try  to  be  a  comfort,  and  not  a  trouble  only,  to 
her  kind  friends  ;  and  do  her  very  best  to  make  them 
never  regret  having  taken  her  in." 

The  Revd.  Septimus  opening  his  mouth  here  to  make 
assurances,  she  stopped  him,  with  her  finger  upon  her 
lip,  and  went  on  again — 

"  And  if,  as  may  sometimes  be  the  case,  though  not 
often,  she  hopes,  the  troubles  which  have  borne  heavily 
upon  her  may  cast  their  shadow  over  her,  and  partially 
also,  from  their  sympathy,  over  her  generous  friends, 
so  noble  and  true,  she  will  try,  oh,  so  hard,  to  conquer 


A   SELFISH   PROPOSAL  51 

the  sadness,  to  rise  superior  to  the  despondency,  to 
shake  off  the  doubts  and  fears.  God  helping  her,  she 
will  do  so,  and  her  friends  will  have  patience  with  her, 
and  help  her,  too." 

Rosa's  small  figure  seemed  to  grow  as  she  spoke,  and 
a  steadiness  and  continuity  of  purpose,  hardly  to 
have  been  looked  for  in  the  childish  beauty,  com 
pressed  her  small  mouth,  and  shone  brightly  in  her 
steadfast  eyes. 

Mr.  Crisparkle  and  her  guardian  contemplated  her 
with  wonder  and  admiration,  though  the  latter  slightly 
and  almost  imperceptibly  shook  his  head. 

Meeting  their  astonished  glance,  she  smiled ;  nay, 
laughed  aloud  at  the  sight  of  Mr.  Grewgious'  dishevelled 
locks,  which,  from  constant  smoothing,  first  one  way, 
and  then  the  other,  had  compromised  matters  by 
remaining  at  the  last  stark  upright,  making  of  him  a 
popular  impersonation  of  fright.  With  the  laugh 
she  became  the  old  Rosebud  again,  at  least,  the  same 
externally. 

"  And  now,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  that  matter 
being  settled,  and  settled  to  all  our  satisfactions,  I 
am  sure  (don't  let  your  champagne  get  cold,  my  dear, 
that  is  to  say,  I  mean  the  opposite,  but  being  a  man  with 
such  remarkably  confused  ideas,  I  generally  do  mean 
the  opposite  of  what  I  say,  or  rather,  say  the  opposite 
of  what  I  mean),  when  do  you  wish  my  ward  to  come 
to  you,  reverend  sir  ;  and  when,  my  dear,  do  you  wish 
to  go  ?  " 

Mr.  Crisparkle  here  mentioned  Miss  Twinkleton's 
plans  with  regard  to  Brighton,  and  Mr.  Grewgious 
heartily  agreed  with  them. 

"  Let  us  say,  then,  a  fortnight  from  this  time,"  said 
Mr.  Grewgious,  "  that  will  allow  your  excellent  mother 
plenty  of  time  for  deciding  between  the  blue  room 
and  the  green,  and  in  making  any  other  arrangements 
she  may  deem  necessary.  And  now,  my  dear,  what 
can  I  do  for  you  before  you  go  ?  " 


52  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

Rosa,  with  a  hanging  head  and  a  blushing  cheek, 
would  dearly  like  to  see  Helena. 

"  So  you  shall,  my  dear,  so  you  shall ;  I  will  run 
across  at  once  to  Mr.  Tartar's,  and  I  have  no  doubt  his 
rooms  will  be  at  your  disposal." 

Rosa,  hiding  her  face  still  more,  and  colouring, 
until  the  tips  of  her  pretty  fingers  were  rosy  red 
too,  answered  hesitatingly  that  she  wanted  to  see 
Helena,  not  as  she  had  before,  but  quite  close  this 
time ;  it — it  wasn't  like  the  same  thing  through 
a  window." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious,  putting  his 
finger  knowingly  on  one  side  of  his  nose,  and  nodding 
slyly  at  his  ward.  "  When  young  ladies  meet,  bless 
their  hearts  ! — I've  seen  'em  at  it  once  or  twice, 
and,"  continued  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  a  most  uncommon 
pretty  sight  it  was — they  fall  into  one  another's  arms, 
they  clasp  one  another  round  the  waist,  they  bring  their 
rosy  lips  together.  Why,"  continued  Mr.  Grewgious, 
dilating  on  his  theme  with  the  delight  of  an  epicure, 
"  it's  most  natural ;  it's  only  what  other  people  would 
like  to  do  too,  if  they  dared." 

Rosa  joined  heartily  in  Mr.  Crisparkle's  merry  laugh  ; 
but,  as  she  laughed,  her  blushes  deepened. 

"  And  to  think,"  added  Mr.  Grewgious,  sympathetic 
ally,  "  of  two  beautiful  beings,  with  all  the  lovely 
and  loving  emotions  of  their  sex  agitating  their  bosoms  ; 
to  think  of  their  being  separated  by  a  chasm,  when  their 
hearts  are  full  of  the  delight  of  meeting,  full  and  running 
over.  Why,  my  dear,  you  are  quite  right ;  you  are 
perfectly  and  comprehensibly  right." 

Rosa,  delighted  to  see  how  readily  he  was  marching 
in  a  wrong  direction,  and  greatly  relieved  to  find  how 
little  her  real  motive  was  comprehended  by  him, 
recovered  somewhat  from  her  confusion,  and  courage 
ously  met  his  eye. 

"  And  now,  my  dear,  we  must  consider  how  we  can 
best  manage  it ;  for  you  wouldn't,  and  we  all  of  us 


A   SELFISH   PROPOSAL  53 

shouldn't,  wish  to  do  anything  rashly,  or  to  put  our 
young  friends  opposite  into  any  sort  of  danger.'* 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Rosa,  with  a  deep  breath. 

"  Did  you  not  tell  me,  reverend  sir,"  continued 
Mr.  Grewgious, "  that  our  local  friend  is  now  in 
London  ?  " 

"  I  left  him  at  the  station,  sir,  and  lost  sight  of  him 
in  the  fog." 

"  And  have  you  no  clue  to  the  reason  for  his  giving 
up  his  situation  so  abruptly  ?  " 

"  None  whatever,  except  that  I  fear  he  wishes  to 
have  more  time  and  opportunity  to  pursue  his  investi 
gations,  and  to  carry  out  his  schemes  for  revenge." 

"  Ah,  he  is  up  to  no  good,  is  our  local  friend,  we 
may  be  sure  of  that,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  and  it 
behoves  us,  therefore,  to  be  very  careful ;  yet  I  should 
be  sorry  to  disappoint  my  ward. 

"  I  propose,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious  again,  after  a 
moment's  thought,  with  his  hand  on  his  ruffled  locks, 
"  that  we,  each  of  us,  look  out  for  an  idea.  The  first 
who  finds  an  idea  speaks.  When  I  say  three,"  said 
Mr.  Grewgious,  lifting  his  hand,  "  let  us  sit  still  and 
ponder.  One,  two,  three,  and  begin." 

Bringing  down  his  hand  upon  the  table  before  him 
with  a  vehemence  which  startled  the  sparrows  outside 
so  effectually  that,  abandoning  their  fruitless  search  for 
that  day,  they  flew  to  roost,  Mr.  Grewgious  composed 
himself  into  an  attitude  of  deep  reflection,  while 
Rosa  and  Mr.  Crisparkle,  following  his  directions,  sat 
in  solemn  silence,  waiting  for  the  birth  of  an  idea. 
Perhaps  they  had  never  felt  in  their  lives  so  completely 
destitute  of  one. 

For  a  few  succeeding  minutes  nothing  was  to  be 
heard  in  the  room,  save  the  loud  ticking  of  the  clock, 
the  occasional  tread  of  a  footstep  outside,  and  the 
distant  roar  from  the  city  ;  then  Mr.  Grewgious  began 
to  exhibit  signs  of  internal  commotion.  He  breathed 
more  quickly,  screwed  up  both  eyes  tightly,  exhibited 


54  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

tokens  of  strangulation,   and  hurriedly  loosened  his 
cravat.    The  birth  was  at  hand. 

"  Have  you  found  an  idea  yet,  reverend  sir  ?  "  he 
enquired,  abruptly,  still  in  a  state  of  agitation,  and 
looking  out  of  the  window. 

"  I  have  turned  the  subject  carefully  over  in  my 
mind,  but  no  plan,  at  all  feasible,  has  occurred  to 
me." 

"  And  you,  my  dear  ?  " 

But  Rosa's  usually  busy  little  brain  had  almost 
seemed  to  stand  still  during  the  interval,  and  she  shook 
her  head. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  consider  it  presumptuous," 
went  on  Mr.  Grewgious,  slowly,  yet  in  a  voice  of 
smothered  excitement,  and  with  his  screwed-up  eyes 
still  turned  towards  the  window,  ' '  to  have  hit  upon  an 
idea  before  you,  as  I  think  I  have.  It  isn't,  by  any 
means,  because  I  am  so  flush  of  'em ;  for  I  was  born 
without  ideas  almost,  and  might  have  remained  here 
until  doomsday  without  finding  one,  but  that  I  am 
sitting,  as  you  perceive,  with  my  face  towards  the 
window,  and  have  had,  therefore,  the  opportunity 
which  you  have  not,  of  viewing  Staple  Inn,  and  seeing 
what  was  going  on  there.  And  what  is  it  that  my  short 
sighted  eyes  have  gradually  been  taking  in  ?  Why, 
a  slouching  form,  a  slinking  figure,  an  evil  eye  ;  to  sum 
up  all  devilish  unpleasantness  in  a  word,  my  idea  has 
appeared  before  me  in  bodily  shape,  and  is — Look  out 
of  the  window,  Mr.  Crisparkle — Shut  your  pretty  eyes, 
my  lamb — our  local  friend." 

Rosa,  with  an  exclamation  of  terror  which  she  could 
not  repress,  drew  closer  to  her  guardian,  and  clung  to 
his  protecting  arm. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious, 
looking  down  upon  the  girl's  shrinking  figure  with  the 
tenderest  compassion  in  his  unfinished  features,  "  for 
Mr.  Crisparkle  is  on  one  side  of  you,  and  /  am  on  the 
other.  If  our  local  friend  (whose  intentions,  no  doubt, 


A    SELFISH   PROPOSAL  55 

are  evil,  and  whom  I  beg  to  be  permitted,  parenthetic 
ally  and  sotto  voce,  to  blast  and  blight)  should  venture 
to  approach  you,  or  even  to  cast  one  baleful  glance  in 
your  direction,  he  would  be  crushed.  And,  when  I 
say  crushed,"  continued  Mr.  Grewgious,  with  a  flushed 
face  and  an  angry  gesture,  "  I  mean  what  I  say,  and 
mean  crushed  to  fragments." 

"If  he  could  have  known  !  "  Rosa  thought,  trem 
bling,  as  she  knelt  down  beside  him,  and  hid  her  pale 
face  upon  his  shoulder.  But  he  only  knew  as  he  laid 
his  arm  gently  and  protectingly  around  her,  that  she 
would  never  appeal  to  him  in  vain  for  help  and  for 
support ;  j  he  only  knew,  as  he  looked  once  more 
defiantly  across  the  way,  that  his  old  arm  would  grow 
strong  and  vigorous  again  to  annihilate  her  enemies  ; 
he  only  knew  that  the  soft  touch  of  her  round  cheek 
against  his  was  bringing  up  the  warm  blood  there  as 
hotly  as  in  the  days  of  his  youth,  and  reviving  sweet 
memories,  scarcely  tasted,  but  never  to  be  forgotten  ; 
for  he  was  but  mortal,  and  could  not  read  the  thoughts 
of  her  agitated  and  frightened  heart. 

"  Our  local  friend,"  continued  Mr.  Grewgious,  when 
Rosa  had  a  little  recovered  from  the  shock  of  knowing 
that  dreadful  man  to  be  so  near  her,  "  has  retired  into 
the  apartment  which  I  pointed  out  to  you  once  before, 
reverend  sir,  and  in  which  he  seems  to  concoct  his 
hellish  plans.  Under  the  circumstance  of  our  local 
friend  being  there  in  propria  persona — which  is  not 
alarming,  my  dear,  and  only  means  that  he  is  there 
himself  ;  though  to  be  sure  that  is  unpleasant  enough  " 
— (this  to  Rosa,  who  had  shuddered) — "  I  think  I  see 
the  way  clear  to  gratify  my  ward." 

"  Pray  tell  Jus  how  !  "  said  the  Minor  Canon. 

"  Let  me  first  propound  a  question,"  said  Mr. 
Grewgious,  deliberately,  with  the  manner  of  an  acute 
lawyer,  whom  nothing  could  induce  to  go  indiscreetly 
direct  to  the  heart  of  the  matter.  "  Do  you  intend 
to  visit  Mr.  Neville  ?  " 


56  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  I  thought  of  going  to  him  to-morrow  morning," 
answered  the  Revd,  Septimus,  "  before  returning  to 
Cloisterham." 

"  Would  you  object  to  make  your  visit  this  evening  ?" 

"  Not  in  the  least,  if  you  wish  it." 

"  I  have  noticed,"  continued  Mr.  Grewgious,  "  that 
Mr.  Neville  usually  takes  his  walks  in  the  evening, 
and  indeed  I  should  think  anybody  not  a — not  a  sala 
mander,  would  prefer  to  do  so  during  this  present 
state  of  the  weather  ;  so  if  you  and  Mr.  Neville  should 
go  out  together  for  a  walk  this  evening,  it  would  be  a 
natural  circumstance,  and  excite  no  suspicion.  If  you 
are  not  tired,  reverend  sir — for  if  you  are,  I  beg  to  with 
draw  my  idea  before  having  given  it  utterance — you 
might  like  to  walk  with  him." 

"  I  am  not  in  the  least  tired,  and  am  quite  at  your 
disposal,  particularly  as  I  think  I  see  what  you  are 
leading  up  to." 

"  I  am  leading  up  to  it,  no  doubt,  crookedly  enough, 
having  nothing  straight  about  me  from  my  nose  to  my 
legs,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious,  looking  down  upon  his  nether 
continuations  with  a  sigh  for  their  imperfections, 
"  and  I  dare  say  your  mind,  which  is  as  straight  as 
your  body,  has  taken  you  ahead  of  me.  But  you  don't 
need  to  tire  yourself  out  with  walking  ;  you  may  take 
a  cab  or  a  hansom,  or  hail  a  passing  omnibus,  so  as  to 
get  over  as  much  ground  as  possible  in  the  course  of 
an  hour  or  two.  I  take  it  to  be  fair  in  love  and  war 
to  wear  out  the  enemy." 

"  You  think  he  will  follow  us  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  highly  probable  that  he  may,  and  that, 
being  here  in  propria  persona,  he  will  be  relying  for 
the  time  on  his  satanic  self  and  his  own  infernal 
devices,  and  will,  when  following,  leave  the  path 
clear  for  us.  Anyhow,  we  will  wait  and  see  if  it 
happens  as  I  expect,  and  if  so,  Miss  Rosa  may  go  to 
her  friend." 

Then  Rosa  and  Mr.  Grewgious,  stealthily  watching 


A   SELFISH    PROPOSAL  57 

behind  the  window  curtains,  soon  saw  Mr.  Crisparkle 
and  Neville  emerge  from  the  house  opposite ;  and  a 
few  seconds  afterwards  had  the  satisfaction  of  observing 
them  followed  by  a  dark  figure,  which  Rosa  tremblingly 
recognised  as  that  of  her  terrible  lover. 


CHAPTER   V 
EDDY'S  WIDOW 

HELENA  was  still  standing  at  the  window  where  she 
had  been  watching  her  brother  and  Mr.  Crisparkle  pass 
out  of  Staple  Inn  together.  The  colour  on  her  dark 
cheek  was  a  trifle  more  brilliant  than  usual,  and  the 
light  in  her  lustrous  eyes  was  softened  into  inex 
pressible  tenderness,  before  which  pride  had  melted 
away,  when  she  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  a  light 
footstep,  followed  by  a  gentle  rap  upon  the  door  ;  and 
a  moment  afterwards,  Rosa,  with  a  beating  heart, 
stood  beside  her. 

"  Rosa,  you  ?     How  glad  I  am  to  see  you." 

"  And  I  to  see  you,  dear,  dear  Helena  !  " 

If  Mr.  Grewgious'  short-sighted  eyes  had  been  able 
to  penetrate  stone  walls,  he  would  have  seen  his  glow 
ing  prediction  verified,  for  the  two  girls  fell  into  one 
another's  arms,  and  laid  their  soft  lips  lovingly  together. 

"  But  how  is  it,  dear,"  continued  Helena,  "  that  you 
are  able  to  come  to  me  ?  Is  the  danger  over  ?  May 
we  meet  again,  freely  and  unrestrainedly  ?  " 

"  Did  not  Mr.  Crisparkle  say  I  was  coming  ?  " 
asked  Rosa,  answering  her  friend's  questions  with 
another. 

"  No  ;  he  only  said  he  had  come  to  fetch  Neville  for 
a  walk.  I  was  glad  for  him  to  go,  for  he  has  been 
working  hard  to-day,  poor  fellow  !  although  it  is  so  hot ; 
and  Neville  forgets  all  his  weariness  when  he  sees  his 
kind  friend." 

It  seemed  as  if  the  sight  did  the  same  good  office  for 
Helena,  for  her  lips  were  parted  in  a  happy  smile,  and 

58 


EDDY'S   WIDOW  59 

all  vestige  of  care  and  trouble  had  vanished  from  her 
face. 

"  I  am  come  to  stay  a  while,  if  you  will  have  me/1 
said  Rosa,  taking  off  her  hat,  and  pushing  back  her 
clustering  hair,  "  f or  I  want  to  have  a  good,  long  talk 
with  you.  I  have  missed  you,  Helena/' 

"  If  I  will  have  you,  my  pet  ?  Why,  I  have  been 
hungering  and  thirsting  for  you.  But  (looking  archly 
at  her  friend)  I'm  afraid  Mr.  Tartar  won't  be^pleased 
with  the  change." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Tartar  !  "  said  Rosa,  tossing  her  head. 
"  What  do  I  care  about  Mr.  Tartar  !  "  But  the  next 
moment,  to  Helena's  great  surprise,  the  pouting  lips 
began  to  tremble,  the  dark  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and, 
throwing  her  arms  round  her  friend's  neck,  Rosa 
burst  into  a  fit  of  passionate  crying,  sobbing  like 
a  child. 

Helena  drew  the  pretty  head  to  her  bosom,  and 
gently  stroked  the  soft  hair,  but  she  made  no  other 
attempt  to  soothe  her  for  a  while ;  until  Rosa's 
sobs  grew  so  violent  and  her  delicate  frame  shook 
and  trembled  so  alarmingly,  that  she  became  quite 
frightened. 

"  Rosa,  you  will  make  yourself  ill,"  she  whispered. 
"  Try  to  compose  yourself,  my  darling,  and  tell  me  all 
about  it.  What  can  have  happened  to  grieve  you  so 
terribly  ?  " 

Holding  the  childish  form  closer  to  her  bosom, 
Helena  wiped  the  streaming  eyes,  kissed  the  convulsed 
mouth,  and  caressed  the  hot  cheeks,  until  at  length 
the  sobs  subsided. 

"  Tell  me  what  it  is,  my  child." 

"  Oh,  I  will,  I  will,"  sobbed  Rosa,  raising  her  tear- 
stained  face  and  overflowing  eyes,  and  meeting  Helena's 
look  of  love  and  sympathy.  "  I  came  to  tell  you,  dear. 
I  cannot  bear  it  alone  any  longer.  And  you  will  help 
me,  Helena,  you  are  so  brave  and  strong,  you  will  help 
me  to  do  what  is  right  ?  " 


60  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

Helena's  look  was  sufficient  answer,  as  she  smoothed 
back  the  tangled  hair  from  Rosa's  hot  forehead. 

"  I  am  so  giddy  and  thoughtless,  so  coquettish  and 
vain,  that  even  when  he — that  dreadful  man — first 
looked  admiringly  at  me,  I  did  not  abhor  and  detest 
it,  as  I  did  afterwards.  Not  that  I  liked  him,  Helena, 
for  a  single  moment ;  but  sometimes  when  Eddy — 
poor,  poor  Eddy  !  used  to  seem  so  indifferent  to  me  ; 
or  when  we  were  walking  together,  and  he  had  eyes  for 
every  pretty  girl  who  passed,  and  none  for  me  ;  or 
when  I  saw  how  long  the  time  seemed  to  him  in  my 
company,  and  how  glad  he  often  was  to  say '  good-bye ' ; 
then  I  used  to  think,  in  my  anger  at  his  neglect,  '  ah, 
you  do  not  care  for  me  ;  never  mind  !  I  know  some 
one,  of  whom  you  do  not  dream  in  your  boyish  self- 
sufficiency  and  conceit,  as  a  rival,  who  would  go  a  long 
way  out  of  his  road  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  me  ;  whose 
heart  I  can  set  beating  to  suffocation  when  I  like  ; 
and  whose  eyes  glow,  as  yours  have  never  glowed,  when 
they  meet  mine.'  Ah,  I  did  not  know  then,  that  it  was 
the  fire  of  hell  that  lighted  them  !  " 

Again  Rosa  hid  her  burning  face  in  her  friend's 
protecting  lap,  and  again  Helena  laid  a  gentle  and 
caressing  hand  upon  her  head. 

"  I  tried  sometimes,"  continued  Rosa,  after  a  few 
minutes  of  silence,  "  to  open  Eddy's  eyes,  and  show  him 
the  real  state  of  things.  I  was  not  afraid  of  his  being 
angry  with  his  uncle  ;  he  was  far  too  fond  of  him  for 
that ;  but  I  thought  he  would  care  a  little  more  for  me, 
if  he  saw  that  another  cared  so  much.  I  thought  he 
would  value  me  more,  if  he  found  out  how  precious  I 
was  in  another's  eyes.  I  hoped  he  might  learn  to  love 
me  then  as  I  wanted  to  be  loved,  and  as  I  knew,  young 
as  I  was,  that  a  bridegroom  ought  to  love  his  bride  ; 
a  husband,  his  wife.  He  treated  me  as  a  baby,  and  I 
behaved  as  one  ;  making  it,  more  shame  for  me,  the 
chief  amusement  of  my  life  to  tease  and  worry  him,  and 
often  weeping  bitterly  afterwards  for  having  done  it. 


EDDY'S   WIDOW  61 

Yet  though  I  grew  every  day  more  indifferent  to  him, 
and  scarcely  needed  to  sham  indifference  any  more, 
I  still  looked  forward  to  our  marriage  as  inevitable. 
Many  and  many  a  time  my  heart  ached  bitterly  as  I 
thought  of  the  long  years  which  lay  before  us,  when  we 
should  be  yoked  together,  and  should  rebel  against  the 
yoke  in  vain." 

"  My  poor  darling  !  "  said  Helena  soothingly,  "  I 
cannot  imagine  how  any  man  could  help  loving  you 
dearly,  far  less  that  man  who  was  your  betrothed 
husband." 

"  And  yet  I  loved  him  through  it  all,"  said  Rosa, 
putting  up  her  hot  lips  to  be  kissed  and  comforted,  and 
struggling  hard  to  subdue  the  emotion  mastering  her. 
"  I  am  so  glad  now,  to  think  that  I  did  love  him  to  the 
end,  poor  boy  !  Yet  it  was  better  we  parted  when  we 
did  ;  far,  far  better  !  And  though  I  am  sorry  to  have 
grieved  him  at  the  last,  I  am  not  sorry  for  that." 

"  You  did  what  you  believed  to  be  right,  and  that 
always  brings  peace,  and  can  leave  behind  no  regret," 
said  Helena. 

"  Yes,"  said  Rosa,  "  but  that  is  not  all  I  wanted  to 
tell  you.  Very  soon  the  admiration  my  music-master 
showed  became  irksome  to  me  ;  very  soon  it  became 
intolerable.  I  showed  it  him  as  plainly  as  I  could, 
but  instead  of  abandoning,  he  only  redoubled  his 
attentions,  until  you  know  at  last  how  I  felt  towards 
him." 

"  I  remember,  indeed,"  said  Helena. 

"  And  now,"  continued  Rosa,  drawing  still  closer  to 
her  friend,  and  glancing  round  the  darkening  room  with 
a  look  of  terror,  "  I  have  something  dreadful  to  tell  you, 
but  only  you,  Helena.  I  dare  not  mention  it  to  my 
guardian,  though  he  is  so  good  and  true,  and  I  dare  not 
mention  it  to  Mr.  Crisparkle,  though  he  also  is  the  very 
soul  of  honour  ;  for  they  are  both  men,  Helena  ;  but 
you  are  a  woman,  and  can  feel  for  and  with  me, 
even  though  I  should  appear  as  degraded  in  your  eyes 


62  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

as  I  am  in  my  own.  And,  confiding  in  you,  Helena,  I 
do  so  with  the  firm  and  full  confidence  that  you  will 
keep  my  secret." 

Helena's  smile  and  earnest  eyes  would  have  satisfied 
any  one ;  and  Rosa,  needing  no  proof  of  the  trust 
worthiness  of  her  friend,  was  more  than  satisfied. 

"  Look,"  said  Rosa,  drawing  a  folded  paper  from  her 
pocket,  and  handing  it  to  her  friend,  "  look  and  read, 
Helena,  and  put  your  arm  round  me  while  you  do  so, 
for  I  am  almost  dead  with  fright  and  terror  ;  and  forgive 
me  for  burdening  you  too,  for  I  am  sure  if  I  kept  it  to 
myself  any  longer,  I  shall  die." 

Clasping  her  friend  with  one  hand,  Helena  opened 
the  paper  with  the  other,  and,  straining  her  eyes  in  the 
gathering  twilight  to  make  out  the  words,  read  as 
follows — 

"  MY  BELOVED. — You  have  fled  before  me,  and 
think,  dear,  foolish  one  !  that  I  could  let  you  go. 
Know  that  there  is  not  a  spot  on  earth  where  I  would 
not  follow  you,  that  there  is  no  crack  nor  cranny  in  the 
wide  universe  where  the  fury  and  intensity  of  my 
passion  would  not  enable  me  to  find  you  out.  In  the 
remotest  and  most  secluded  corner  of  this  great  city, 
on  the  trackless  paths  of  the  ocean,  I  would  haunt  you 
with  my  presence,  and — to  cherish  you  as  the  apple  of 
my  eye — would  hunt  you  down.  I  have  been  near  you 
a  hundred  times  when  you  have  deemed  me  far  away  ; 
I  shall  be  near  you  a  hundred  times,  when  you  have  no 
visible  token  of  my  presence.  I  have  revelled  in  the 
exquisite  charm  of  your  lovely  face,  gloated  over  your 
beautiful  form,  and  pressed  my  burning  lips  to  yours  in 
thought,  a  thousand  times,  and  no  flush  on  your  face, 
no  look  of  fear  or  of  delight  has  shown  me  that  you  felt 
it.  Is  the  passion  which  consumes  my  heart  utterly 
powerless  to  kindle  a  sympathetic  spark  in  yours  ? 
It  cannot  be  so  ;  but  if  it  were,  even  then  you  must  be 
mine.  You  shall  never — I  swear  it  to  you — you  shall 
never  belong  to  another.  The  blow  I  spoke  of  would 


EDDY'S   WIDOW  63 

have  fallen  ere  now,  but  that  I  have  seen  other  eyes 
looking  with  admiration  at  your  beauty,  but  that  I  have 
seen  another  face  glow  when  your  sweet  voice  fell  upon 
his  ear. 

"  Beware,  my  goddess  !  angel  of  my  life  !  star  of  my 
existence  !  beware,  beware  !  Can  you  wonder  that 
any  and  every  man  who  contemplates  your  beauty, 
that  any  and  every  man  who  basks  in  the  light  of  your 
countenance,  must  become  my  hated  rival — my  dead 
liest  enemy,  for  your  sake.  By  this  token,  my  beloved, 
that  even  as  you  read  I  am  watching  you,  take  warning 
and  give  heed  to  what  I  say  ;  for  I  swear  to  you  again, 
by  Heaven  and  Hell,  that,  dead  or  living,  you  shall 
belong  to  no  man  but  me." 

Here  the  letter  abruptly  closed,  without  signature. 
After  a  pause,  Rosa  spoke  again. 

"  I  have  had  that  letter  two  or  three  days,"  she  said, 
"  long  enough  to  form  a  resolution  which  even  before 
then  had  been  taking  shape  and  gathering  in  my  brain. 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  remain  all  my  life  as  I 
should  have  remained  if  I  had  married  Eddy,  and  he 
had  died — his  widow.  Do  not  laugh  at  me,  dear ;  it 
is  a  foolish  way  of  putting  it,  I  know.  But  it  may 
satisfy  the  dead,  perhaps/'  said  Rosa,  shuddering, 
"  and  it  may  appease  that  dreadful  man.  At  any  rate, 
only  I  then  should  have  to  suffer  from  his  wrath." 

"Satisfy  the  dead!"  exclaimed  Helena.  "  What 
new  terror  haunts  you,  dearest  ?  " 

"  I  have  dreamt  so  often  of  Eddy  lately,"  answered 
Rosa,  in  a  low,  frightened  voice.  "  I  used  to  dream  of 
him  in  Cloisterham,  after  he  was  lost,  but  never  un 
happily  or  painfully.  I  fancied  myself  walking  with 
him  in  the  Close,  or  by  the  river,  as  we  used  to  do  ; 
but  we  never  quarrelled,  as  we  so  often  had  done  in 
reality.  He  was  kind  and  gentle,  and  loving,  as  he 
had  been  the  last,  last  time.  When  I  awoke  then 
in  the  morning,  my  pillow  was  wet  with  tears,  but 
they  had  been  happy  ones.  Now  my  dreams  are  quite 


64  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

different.  I  think  I  am  sleeping  in  my  little  bedroom, 
just  as  I  am  really,  and  that  Eddy  is  standing  by  my 
bedside.  He  does  not  look  as  Eddy  used  to  look, 
but  rather  as  the  ghost  of  Eddy  might  look,  if  it  could 
appear  to  me.  I  do  not  know  why  I  am  sure  that  it 
is  he,  but  I  am  sure  ;  I  feel  it  in  my  inmost  heart.  He 
never  speaks  a  word,  but  looks  at  me  steadily  and  sadly. 
I  try  to  cry  out,  but  my  tongue  is  tied,  and  I  can  only 
make  a  feeble  notion  with  my  hand.  Then  he  vanishes  ; 
and  in  vanishing  I  see  his  face  contract  with  an  anguish 
so  terrible,  with  a  sadness  so  bitter  and  intense,  that 
I  wake  with  the  fright,  shaking  in  every  limb,  and 
bathed  in  perspiration." 

"  Your  nerves  are  terribly  excited,"  said  Helena, 
"  and  the  dullness  of  your  life  here  wears  upon  your 
constitution,  and  will  seriously  affect  your  health. 
You  must  have  a  change,  dear  one,  and  the  dreams 
will  vanish  too." 

"  That  is  not  all,"  continued  Rosa.  "  This  very 
evening,  as  I  was  entering  Staple  Inn  with  Mr.  Cris- 
parkle,  we  met  a  man  coming  out.  I  was  thinking 
of  my  dream,  it  is  true,  and  perhaps  that  may  have 
made  me  partly  fancy  it,  but  as  the  man  looked  at 
me  in  passing,  I  saw  his  face  grow  pallid  with  suffering, 
and  drawn  with  the  anguish  of  Eddy's  in  my  dream." 

"  My  darling,  you  seriously  alarm  me,"  said  Helena. 
"  At  any  rate,  we  must  speak  to  Mr.  Grewgious  about 
this  ;  you  must  have  a  change  of  scene  immediately." 

"  I  am  going  to  have  a  change,"  explained  Rosa. 
"  I  am  going  to  Brighton  with  Miss  Twinkleton,  and 
then  I  am  going  to  stay  with  Mrs.  Crisparkle  for  the 
present." 

With  a  start,  and  a  sharp  exclamation,  only  half 
uttered,  Helena  for  one  moment  let  fall  the  arm 
encircling  Rosa's  waist,  and  stepped  back — only  for 
one  moment ;  the  next  she  drew  her  almost  passion 
ately  towards  her  again,  and  covered  her  face  with 
kisses. 


EDDY'S    WIDOW  65 

"  Do  you  not  approve,  Helena  ?  "  asked  Rosa, 
surprised,  trying  to  see  her  friend's  face  in  the 
darkness. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes  !  "  answered  Helena,  in  a  voice  which 
she  strove  to  render  cheerful,  but  which,  in  spite  of 
herself,  waxed  slow  and  sad  ;  "  you  must,  you  must  be 
happy  there." 

"  Then  why  do  you  speak  so  sadly ;  what  are  you 
sorry  f or  ?  >J 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  sorry,  Rosa ;  I  am  glad,  glad  with 
my  whole  heart.  Believe  me,  dear,  I  am  indeed. 
Do  not  mind  my  weeping,  Rosa  ;  they  are  tears  of  joy. 
What  could  I  wish  better  for  you  than  that  you  should 
live  with — them  ?  You  will  forget  your  troubles  there, 
and  grow  contented  and  happy  again.  How  can  it 
be  otherwise ;  surrounded  by  friends  so  generous 
and  high-minded,  so  large-hearted,  and  so  true." 

If  joy  were  the  source  from  which  Helena's  tears 
sprang,  it  was  a  prolific  one  indeed  ;  for  notwithstand 
ing  her  strong  effort  to  control  herself,  they  fell  thick 
and  heavy.  Clenching  her  delicate  hands,  and  biting 
her  lips  till  the  blood  sprang,  she  kept  back  sob  or 
sound,  but  the  barrier  which  confined  her  tears  had 
broken  down  utterly,  and  they  must  and  would  have 
way.  Rosa,  terrified,  clung  to  her  friend. 

"  You,  crying,  Helena,"  she  said,  in  great  distress. 
"  What  cruel  thing  have  I  said  or  done  to  hurt  you  ? 
I  never  knew  you  shed  tears,  even  during  all  that 
dreadful  time  in  Cloisterham.  I  cannot  bear  it," 
sobbed  Rosa,  weeping  in  sympathy ;  "  you,  who  are 
always  so  fearless  and  undaunted." 

"  It  is  all  over  now,"  said  Helena,  at  last,  "  and  will 
never  happen  again.  I  do  not  know  how  I  could  be 
so  foolish,  but  all  of  a  sudden,  here  in  the  darkness 
(I  have  had  my  troubles,  too,  you  know) ,  in  the  midst 
of  my  joy  for  you,  came  a  feeling  of  loneliness  for 
myself,  deeper  and  sadder  than  I  ever  had  before. 
I  felt  myself — it  was  a  foolish  fancy — cast  out,  alone, 

F 


66  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

and  forgotten.  Oh,  Rosa,  you  will  not  forsake 
me  ?  " 

"  Forsake  you,  my  best  and  dearest  friend ;  oh, 
never,  never." 

"  And  now  it  is  time  for  you  to  go,"  continued 
Helena.  "  You  told  me  you  dared  not  stay  more  than 
an  hour.  God  bless  you !  God  make  you  happy, 
darling !  He  will,  He  will,  I  know." 

Helena  bowed  her  head  again,  and  kissed  Rosa 
tenderly.  Poor  Rosa's  cheek  was  wet  with  tears, 
but  Helena's  was  dry ;  she  had  fought  out  that  brief 
battle  with  herself,  and  wept  no  more. 


CHAPTER   VI 

MOTHER    COOMBS    HAS    A    VISITOR 

THE  heat  of  the  last  few  days  had  terminated  in  violent 
thunderstorms,  and  a  chilly,  steady  rain  now  falling, 
cooled  the  heated  pavements  of  the  city.  In  the 
extreme  east  of  it  a  man  of  nearly  forty  was  trudging 
along  under  his  umbrella  the  streets  with  the  air  of 
one  who  knows  where  he  is,  and  what  he  means  to  do. 
After  walking  some  distance  he  stood  still,  doubtfully, 
and  looking  round,  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a 
hideous  old  woman,  who  was  leering  at  him  out  of  her 
bleared  and  watering  eyes. 

"  Was  you  a  lookin'  for  any  one  here,  deary  ?  " 
she  enquired.  "  P'raps  I  can  show  you  what  you  want, 
and  you'll  give  me  a  trifle  for  the  trouble,  partickler 
as  times  is  bad,  and  it's  a  hard  matter  for  a  poor  old 
soul  to  scrape  together  enough  to  live  on,  deary ; 
though,  Lord  knows,  'tis  little  enough  she  wants, 
and  faint  long  neither  as  she'll  want  that  little." 

"  I  was  looking  for  a  woman  of  the  name  of  Coombs/' 
he  said,  regarding  her  fixedly.  "  A  woman  celebrated 
for  mixing  opium,  and  recommended  to  me  on  that 
account ;  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  you  are  she." 

"  Lord  bless  ye,  so  I  am  !  "  retorted  the  woman, 
with  a  chuckle,  and  trembling  from  the  eagerness  with 
which  she  spoke.  "  Lord  love  ye,  sir,  'tis  nobody  but 
me.  'Twould  'a  broke  my  heart  not  to  have  come  across 
ye,  and  so  have  missed  ye,  deary.  There's  people  in 
this  court  as  would  a  sent  ye  to  Jack  Chinaman,  as 
soon  as  not — sooner  than  not — just  to  spite  me,  deary. 
They'd  a  told  ye  that  he  knows  how  to  mix  it  as  well 

67 


68  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

as  me  ;  but  it's  a  lie,  a  wicked  lie,  and  they're  thieves 
and  liars  as  says  it.  I've  only  been  out  buyin'  a  bit 
o'  whittles,  for  one  must  live,  must  live,  deary,  and  times 
is  bad,  times  is  drefful  bad.  Come  in,  come  in,  and  you 
shall  have  what  you  want  in  a  winkin.  I'm  drenched 
to  the  bone  and  a  shakin'  with  ager ;  but  I'll  have  it 
ready  for  ye,  before  ye're  ready  for  it,  deary.  I  will 
upon  my  soul." 

Trembling  with  joy  at  having  found  a  customer, 
and  shaking  from  cold  and  wet,  the  withered  fingers 
of  the  hag  closed  impatiently  upon  a  key,  which  she 
drew  from  the  pocket  of  her  ragged  dress,  and  she 
strove  to  put  it  in  the  lock.  Twice,  thrice  it  fell  from 
her  palsied  hand,  until  at  length  her  companion,  though 
without  any  show  of  impatience,  putting  her  aside, 
opened  the  door  himself. 

Before  him  he  dimly  perceived,  by  the  faint  and 
murky  light  which  penetrated  from  the  court  outside, 
a  dilapidated  and  tottering  staircase,  which  his  com 
panion  hastily  motioned  him  to  ascend. 

Following  close  upon  his  steps,  she  opened  a  door 
at  the  top,  and  almost  pushed  him  before  her,  as  if 
she  feared  he  might  yet  desert  her,  if  not  kept  close, 
as  they  entered  a  small  room  together. 

The  smell  outside  in  the  open  court  had  been  foul 
enough,  indeed,  for  noses  not  accustomed  to  such 
odours ;  but  the  smell  issuing  from  the  room  was  more 
loathsome  and  disgusting  still. 

Mingling  with  the  scent  of  unaired  beds,  and  drying, 
half-washed  clothes  and  foul  decay,  was  another,  pene 
trating,  sickly  sweet  and  almost  overpowering  scent — 
the  smell  of  opium. 

The  man  drew  back  involuntarily,  but  the  woman, 
pushing  him  still  further  in,  closed  and  locked  the  door 
behind  him. 

He  was  a  brave  man  enough,  and  accustomed  to  all 
sorts  of  adventures,  and  had  many  a  time  seen  danger 
close  before  him,  terrible  and  threatening,  without 


MOTHER   COOMBS    HAS   A   VISITOR      69 

flinching ;  here,  too,  was  only  an  old  woman  whom 
in  one  moment  his  strong  man's  arm  could  render 
powerless,  and  yet  a  strange  terror  fell  upon  him,  and 
the  loathsome  air  made  him  sick  and  faint. 

From  the  early  morning  it  had  been  only  half-day 
in  the  city  ;  in  the  court  outside  it  was  evening  ;  and 
here  it  was  the  dead  of  night.  He  would  have  opened 
the  door  again — for  even  the  air  of  the  court  was  pure 
compared  to  this,  but  he  could  see  nothing,  and,  groping 
with  his  hands,  he  only  struck  against  something  cold 
and  hard  as  iron. 

"  Wait  a  bit,  wait  a  bit,"  said  the  woman,  groping 
also  about  as  if  she  were  seeking  something.  "  I'll 
strike  a  light,  and  then  I'll  have  it  ready  for  ye  in  next 
to  no  time,  deary.  Celebrated  !  ha,  ha  !  They  knows 
that,  they  knows  it.  There's  a  many,  a  many,  deary, 
who's  gone  to  the  world's  end  to  seek  comfort,  and  has 
come  to  me  at  last  and  found  it  here,  by  old  Mother 
Coombs,  who  knows  the  right  mixin'  of  it." 

She  had  lit  the  candle  by  this  time,  and  now,  seating 
herself  exhausted,  coughed  and  spat  till  the  few  scat 
tered  teeth  in  her  head,  as  if  anxious  to  quit  an  abode 
upon  which  they  held  such  uncertain  tenure,  shook 
visibly. 

His  eyes  had,  however,  in  the  meantime,  grown 
accustomed  to  the  darkness,  and  he  had  dimly  made  out 
the  principal  objects  in  the  room  before  that.  They 
were  not  many  ;  a  wretched  bedstead,  against  which 
he  had  stumbled  on  entering,  a  crazy  chair  or  two,  a 
crippled  table,  supporting  itself  as  best  it  could  against 
a  wall,  and  a  battered  easy  chair,  in  which  he  had 
seated  himself,  striving  to  overcome  the  giddiness 
which  threatened  to  overwhelm  him,  and  almost 
already  feeling  the  effect  of  the  stupefying  opium,  so 
strongly  was  he  affected  by  the  sickly  scent. 

He  had  made  out  these  few  details  in  one  sharp, 
comprehensive  glance  ;  so  strong  was  the  instinct 
and  the  habit  of  his  life,  even  though  his  eyes  were 


70  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

growing  heavy,  and  a  mist  rose  before  his  vision  as 
he  gazed. 

When  the  woman  recovered  from  her  fit  of  coughing, 
she  turned  to  view  him.  Her  red  and  swollen  eyelids 
covered  eyes  which  had  learned  to  scrutinise  almost 
as  sharply  as  his  ;  but  there  was  nothing  to  excite 
suspicion  in  his  appearance  ;  his  head  was  bent ;  and 
his  eyes  almost  stupidly  cast  upon  the  ground. 

"  Ah,  you've  found  out  the  right  seat,  deary,"  she 
croaked ;  "let  you  alone  for  that.  This  ain't  a  par- 
tickler  out-and-out  court,  and  this  room  might  be  better 
than  it  is  ;  but  I'll  warrant  you  that  there  ain't  a  court 
in  all  London  as  have  held  so  much  delight  and  happi 
ness  within  it  as  this,  and  in  another  half  an  hour,  deary, 
you  will  have  tasted  the  delights  of  Paradise." 

He  made  no  answer,  but  remained  intent  upon  the 
floor,  and  after  eyeing  him  again  for  a  moment  with  a 
satisfied  grin,  she  turned  to  prepare  the  pipe  for  him. 

"  It's  trouble  brought  you  to  me,  ain't  it,  deary  ? 
It  don't  need  a  lynx-eye  to  make  out  that,  nor  to  guess 
at  it  neither.  Tis  trouble  brings  the  most  here,  except 
the  Chinamen,  and  them  as  has  learned  it  in  furrin 
lands  ;  and  maybe  it's  trouble  that's  brought  them  to 
it  too  ;  Lord  knows  !  But  what  a  blessin'  to  think 
that  they  forgets  that  here,  and  comes  in  heaven ; 
so  cheap,  so  cheap,  too." 

He  murmured  something  that  might  have  been 
assent  or  dissent,  she  knew  not  which,  and  still  his 
eyes  were  cast  upon  the  ground. 

"  Oh,  I've  had  a  many,  a  many  sittin'  there  before 
you,"  she  went  on.  "  Gentlemen  as  had  lost  their 
fortunes,  and  found  'em  again  here,  deary  ;  gentlemen 
as  had  been  crossed  in  love,  and  ladies,  too.  Ah,  you 
may  believe  me,  or  you  may  not,  as  you  please,  but 
it's  the  livin'  truth,  deary — ladies,  too." 

Raising  his  head  quickly,  as  if  for  the  first  time  he 
had  heard  what  she  said,  he  asked  if  his  pipe  were 
ready. 


MOTHER   COOMBS    HAS   A   VISITOR      71 

"  In  a  minnit,  in  one  little  minnit,  deary.  Lord 
love  you,  ye'd  a  had  it  afore  now,  but  my  fingers  was 
numbed  with  the  wet  and  cold,  and  are  a  shakin'  still 
with  the  thought  of  having  nearly  missed  ye,  deary. 
Tell  us,  lovey,  was  you  crossed  in  love,  maybe  ?  " 

"  No,  not  that." 

"  Ah,  that's  a  pity,  that  is,"  she  muttered,  "  for  in 
a  leetle,  leetle  half-hour  you'd  have  had  her  in  your 
arms,  deary.  Aye,  that  you  would,  take  my  word  for 
it,  and  I  ought  to  know.  There's  a  many  who've 
been  crossed  in  love,  who  cuts  their  own  throats,  or 
hers  ;  or  dashes  out  their  own  brains,  or  the  other's  ;  or 
throws  themselves  into  the  rushing  river,  who  never 
need  have  done  it  if  they'd  come  to  me,  for  they'd 
'a  had  her  sure  and  certain,  aye,  much  more  sure  and 
certain  than  their  rival,  deary." 

"  You  think,  then,  that  the  imagination  conjures 
up  visions,  under  the  influence  of  opium,  almost  equal 
to  the  reality  ?  "  he  enquired,  lifting  his  head  again. 

"  You  speak  the  truth,  deary,"  she  answered, 
chuckling.  "  Leave  out  the  almost,  and  you  speaks 
the  truth.  Not  almost ;  far,  far  better  than  the  reality. 
In  the  vision  you  have  perfect  enjoyment ;  all,  all 
you  wants  and  wishes  for.  In  the  reality,  as  a  gentle 
man  like  you  knows  better  than  me,  there's  more  than 
half  disappointment — more  than  half,  deary,  sometimes 
all." 

"  You  open  up  enchanting  vistas,"  he  remarked, 
dreamily.  "  Make  haste,  I  am  impatient." 

"  And  well  you  may  be,"  she  answered,  handing 
him  the  pipe.  "  There,  take  it,  take  it,  and  when  you've 
tried  it  once  you'll  try  it  again.  'Tis  a  taste  that  always 
makes  ye  long  for  more.  Good  luck  for  us,  it  always 
makes  ye  long  for  more." 

Taking  the  pipe  thoughtfully  from  her  hand,  he  put 
it  to  his  lips. 

The  rain  poured  heavily  against  the  window  pane ; 
the  ragged  curtain  fluttered  in  the  draught,  sharp- 


72  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

teethed  rats  gnawed  behind  the  wainscot,  and  the 
withered  figure  of  the  hag,  resting  on  the  bed — now, 
as  she  moved,  half  hidden  in  the  darkness,  now,  lit 
up  weirdly  by  the  flickering  light — might  have  been 
an  evil  spirit  presiding  over  the  whole. 

If  the  pipe  were  to  open  for  him  the  gates  of  heaven, 
it  seemed  as  if  the  road  there  lay  through  hell. 

The  woman  regarded  him  attentively,  with  a  cat 
like  and  stealthy  gaze.  Making  a  great  pretence  of 
going  to  sleep  upon  the  bed,  and  often  fearfully  racked 
by  her  cough,  she  yet  never  turned  away  her  scrutinis 
ing  eyes.  The  satisfied  grin  which  had  sat  upon  her 
countenance  at  first,  faded,  then  vanished  quite,  and 
gave  place  to  a  malignant  scowl. 

Rising,  she  made  as  if  she  would  approach  him,  when, 
ringing  through  the  rising  wind  and  splashing  rain, 
outside,  came  a  fearful  shriek,  succeeded  by  another, 
and  yet  another. 

The  man,  letting  his  pipe  fall,  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  hastily  drew  something  out  of  the  pocket  of  his 
coat ;  his  face  reddened  heavily,  and  his  downcast 
eye  grew,  as  if  by  magic,  keen  and  bright.  Was  it 
really  hell  in  this  accursed  place,  then,  and  wrere  those 
the  screams  of  the  condemned  ? 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  he  asked,  shuddering,  yet  with 
a  sharp,  clear  ring  in  his  voice,  and  with  a  resoluteness 
as  if  he  would  compel  an  answer.  "  What  was  that 
fearful  cry  ?  " 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  repeated  the  woman,  who  had 
carefully  observed  and  noted  his  every  gesture,  and 
accompanying  her  words  with  a  fierce  oath  ;  "  nothin, 
nothin'  at  all.  Only  a  drunken  neighbour  a  beatin' 
of  his  wife.  Go  out  and  interfere  between  them  if 
you  like,  and  have  your  own  brains  knocked  out,  and 
hers  into  the  bargain,  or  at  the  best  beat  twice  as  much 
when  you  are  done  for.  What's  that  you've  got  in 
your  hand  ?  " 

The  sudden  sharpness  of  the  enquiry ;    the  feeling 


MOTHER    COOMBS    HAS    A   VISITOR      73 

that  she  was  right,  and  that  interference  would  be 
madness  ;  the  confusion  consequent  on  the  sense  that 
he  had  betrayed  himself ;  and  the  fear  that  the  work 
he  had  come  to  do  might  be  frustrated  on  that 
account,  combined  to  restore  the  man  to  a  sense  of 
his  position.  Hastily  replacing  the  something  in  his 
pocket,  he  sat  down  again. 

"  What  did  you  come  for  ?  "  continued  the  woman, 
in  a  fury  ;  "  what  do  you  mean  by  a  bringin'  weapons, 
and  God  knows  what  else,  along  with  you  ?  Do  you 
think  a  poor  old  soul  as  earns  a  honest  livin'  is  to  be 
looked  upon  as  thieves  and  robbers  ?  What  did  you 
come  here  for,  a  pokin'  and  a  pryin'  ?  You  warn't 
smokin',  I  see  that.  Oh,  deary,  deary  me  !  " 

"I'm  not  accustomed  to  it,"  he  returned,  "  and 
that's  the  truth.  Here,  you  take  the  pipe,  and  smoke 
it ;  I  will  pay  for  it  all  the  same,  and  while  you  are 
smoking,  let  me  tell  you  a  story.  " 

"  Oh,  deary,  deary  me  !  "  complained  the  woman, 
falling  upon  the  bed  again,  and  clasping  her  knees 
with  both  hands,  while  she  rocked  herself  to  and  fro, 
as  if  in  bodily  agony.  "  I  see  he  warn't  a  smokin'  of 
it.  I  knowed  as  he  hadn't  come  for  no  good  purpose, 
when  I  see  that ;  them  as  longs  for  it  don't  play  with 
it  aforehand,  but  goes  at  it  with  all  their  might  and 
main,  as  eager  as  a  suckin'  babe  upon  its  mother's 
breast.  Oh,  deary,  deary  me  !  " 

**  I  tell  you,"  he  said,  "  that  I  came  here  to  do  you 
no  harm.  I  did  not  come  to  smoke,  that  is  true,  but 
I  came  to  benefit  you,  nevertheless.  You  say  the  times 
are  hard ;  a  few  bright  pieces  of  gold,  though  hard 
themselves,  will  not  make  them  harder." 

He  saw  by  the  sudden  change  of  expression  on  her 
face,  and  by  the  glitter  in  her  eye,  that  his  words  were 
beginning  to  tell ;  but  still  she  did  not  change  her 
position,  and,  continuing  to  rock  herself,  complained 
further — 

"  To  fall  upon  a  poor,  lone  woman  that  never  did 


74  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

nothing  to  hurt  nobody  ;  that  has  been  able — through 
knowin'  the  right  receipt  for  mixin'  of  it — to  give 
comfort  to  hundreds,  who  found  no  comfort  more — 
no,  not  even  in  the  bottle  ;  who  earns  a  honest  livin' 
by  a  honest  trade  ;  and  never  had  nothin'  to  do,  neither 
with  peelers  nor  with  law  courts,  though  she've  been 
hard  put  to  it  many  and  many  a  day.  Oh,  deary,  deary 
me  !  " 

"  Come  !  "  he  said,  persuasively.  "  Listen  to  me  ! 
I  only  came  here  to  tell  you  a  story,  and  I  will  pay  you 
for  listening  to  it,  every  minute  that  it  costs  you.  If  you 
can  supplement  my  story,  which  I  think  you  can,  I  will 
pay  you  double,  treble.  If  you  cannot,  or  will  not,  I 
will  go  my  way  again,  as  I  came  ;  and  if  you  are  none 
the  better  for  my  visit,  you  will  assuredly  be  none  the 
worse." 

Drawing  out  his  purse,  to  satisfy  her  that  his  words 
were  earnest,  he  took  two  sovereigns  out,  and  holding 
it  so  as  to  show  her  plainly  that  it  held  many  more, 
continued — 

"  These  two  pieces  are  yours,  when  you  have  heard 
my  story.  When  you  have  supplemented  and,  as  I 
hope,  completed  it,  I  will  place  the  purse  and  its 
contents  in  your  hand." 

"  There's  no  harm  done,  I  suppose,  in  hearing  of 
it  ?  "  she  said,  her  eyes  and  mouth  watering  at  the  sight 
of  the  gold.  "  There's  no  law,  as  I  knows  on,  to  punish 
a  poor  old  soul  for  listenin'  to  what  is  told  her.  We're 
hedged  all  round  about  with  laws — cruel  laws  for  the 
poor,  though  easy  enough  for  the  rich  and  powerful  as 
makes  'em,  but  I  reckon  there  ain't  no  law  at  present 
to  prevent  my  hearin'  what  ye  say,  though  like  enough, 
they  'ill  be  makin'  of  one  by-and-by." 

"  Then  take  my  pipe  and  smoke  it  while  I  speak," 
he  said.  "  I  suspect  it  will  not  be  too  strong  for  you, 
though  it  would  very  soon  have  drowned  all  my  faculties 
— except  the  faculty  of  imagination,  as  you  tell  me." 

"  You  are  right  again  there,  deary,"  she  answered, 


MOTHER   COOMBS    HAS    A   VISITOR      75 

with  a  chuckle,  recovering  her  good  humour,  while  she 
relit  the  pipe,  and  put  it  to  her  mouth.  "  It's  only 
strong  enough  to  rouse  up  my  faculties,  and  to  make 
me  bright  and  wakeful,  while  listening  to  ye."  Then 
making  herself  as  comfortable  as  she  could,  and 
composing  herself  to  listen,  she  made  a  sign  to  him  to 
begin. 

"  My  story  is  not  long/'  he  commenced,  fixing  his 
eyes  attentively  upon  her,  "  nor  is  it,  perhaps,  either 
peculiar  or  orignal.  It  is  the  story  of  two  men — uncle 
and  nephew — both  young.  The  uncle,  a  dark  man,  of 
six  or  seven  and  twenty ;  the  nephew,  almost  a  boy 
still,  barely  twenty." 

He  saw  the  pipe  tremble  in  her  hand,  and  that  her 
eyes,  dilating,  met  his  as  if  in  a  manner  fascinated  by 
their  gaze,  but  she  spoke  no  word. 

"  The  nephew,  a  light-hearted,  thoughtless  youth  ; 
frank,  unsuspicious  and  good  natured,  is — although 
so  young — betrothed  to  a  beautiful  young  girl.  This 
betrothal  has  grown  out  of  the  earnest,  expressed  wish 
of  the  parents  on  both  sides — long  dead — for  the  two, 
boy  and  girl,  are  orphans. 

"  The  children,  brought  up  in  constant  communica 
tion  with  one  another,  have  grown  accustomed  to  this 
idea,  and,  though  without  any  strong  attachment  on 
either  side,  are  contented  in  it.  The  time,  which 
running  its  rapid  course  has  transformed  them  into 
man  and  woman,  brings  the  period  nigh  when  they 
will  be  united  for  ever. 

"  The  uncle,  who,  apparently,  is  deeply  attached  to 
his  nephew,  conceives  a  violent  passion  for  this  girl ; 
it  burns  inwardly,  for  he  gives  no  outward  sign  or  token, 
but  it  burns  fiercely,  consuming  and  devouring  his 
heart.  Perhaps  to  obtain  relief  from  the  pain  and 
agony  he  suffers,  he  takes  to  smoking  opium." 

Pausing  with  his  searching  eyes  upon  her,  he  seemed 
to  try  to  read  her  very  thoughts  ;  but  though  her  eyes 
met  his  again  as  if  drawn  there  against  her  will,  she 


76  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

showed  no  other  emotion,  and  uttered  no  sound,  except 
a  kind  of  crooning  comfort  and  enjoyment  of  her  pipe. 

"  At  this  crisis,  just  before  the  time  fixed  for  the 
marriage,  and  when  it  seems  inevitable,  the  nephew 
disappears.  There  is  strong  reason  to  suppose  he  has 
been  murdered.  The  body  remains  undiscovered. 

"  The  uncle,  who  accepts  this  surmise  as  sure  and 
certain — and  indeed  it  seems  the  only  probable  one — 
and  bowed  down  with  grief  so  intense  and  terrible  that 
he  has  wasted  away  to  a  mere  nothing,  has  moved 
heaven  and  earth  to  find  out  and  hunt  down  the 
murderer.  He  is  moving  heaven  and  earth  to  find 
him  still." 

The  woman  laughed ;  a  laugh  so  harsh  and  dis 
cordant,  that,  as  it  rang  through  the  room,  even  the 
rats'  sharp  teeth  ceased  in  terror,  and  scuttling  away 
behind  the  wainscot,  they  abandoned,  for  a  short  time, 
their  work  of  destuction.  The  rain  fell  less  heavily, 
but  the  wind,  which  had  been  howling  outside,  changed 
its  tune,  and  laughed  too,  as  if  a  thousand  demons 
peopled  it. 

"Do  you  think  he  will  find  him  ?  "  enquired  the 
narrator,  as  the  echoes  her  laugh  had  awakened  died 
away. 

"  How  should  I  know,"  she  replied,  "  what  do  you 
come  a  tellin'  of  your  stories  to  me  for  ?  What  odds 
do  it  make  to  me,  whether  he  find  him  or  not  ?  " 

"  You  remember  that  I  promised  to  pay  you  for 
listening,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  I  do,  deary,  indeed  I  do  ;  I  ain't  forgot  that. 
My  memory's  goin'  for  a  many  things  ;  it's  goin'  fast, 
but  I  don't  forget  that,  or  I  shouldn't  have  listened  to 
ye.  Go  on,  if  you  like,  or  tell  me  another  story  for  a 
change.  There's  prettier  stories  than  that ;  of  lovely 
ladies  and  lovely  princes  as  comes  to  court  and  marries 
'em.  Tell  me  another  story  this  time,  deary,  and  let  it 
be  a  merrier  one.  Murder's  an  ugly  thing  to  talk  of  in 
the  dark." 


MOTHER   COOMBS    HAS   A    VISITOR      77 

"  But  you  forget,"  he  replied,  "  that  I  promised 
you  much  more  money,  if  you  could  help  me  to  finish 
my  story.  It  is  very  incomplete  now.  The  murdered 
young  man  is  not  found  ;  the  murderer  is  undiscovered, 
and  the  disconsolate  uncle  is  unappeased.  I  want  my 
story  finished." 

"Do  you  want  it  finished  here  ?  "  she  enquired 
peevishly,  "  then  ask  the  rats ;  ask  the  wind  roarin' 
outside ;  ask  anybody  you  like,  but  not  me.  What 
do  I  know  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  that  the  uncle,  to  soothe  the  pangs  of  a 
hopeless  passion,  took  to  smoking  opium." 

"  And  he  did  right,"  retorted  the  woman,  with 
sudden  energy,  "  he  did  right !  Where  else  could 
he  go  for  comfort !  I'd  a  done  it  myself.  I  told  you 
that  them  as  had  been  crossed  in  love,  could  have  what 
they  wanted  here ;  or  anywhere  else,  if  there  is  such 
a  place,  where  they  knows  the  right  mixin'  of  it." 

"  And  I  know  more,"  continued  the  man,  "  I  know 
that  he  cap*e  here  to  smoke ;  in  this  very  room,  probably 
on  that  very  bed." 

"  He  couldn't  a  come  to  nowhere  better,"  said  the 
woman,  indifferently,  "  maybe  you're  right.  There's 
a  many  comes  and  a  many  goes.  I  mixes  for  'em  and 
they  has  their  wisions,  and  they  knows  that  opium's 
rare,  and  pays  accordin'  ;  then  they  goes  ;  but  they 
don't  tell  me,  deary,  what  their  wisions  was." 

"  I  know  also,"  pursued  the  man  quietly,  always 
with  his  searching  eyes  upon  her  face,  "  that  from  this 
court,  and  this  house,  an  old  and  feeble  woman  made  a 
journey — for  her,  a  long  journey — to  follow  this  man. 
I  know  that  conquering  all  difficulties  which  must  have 
lain  in  her  way,  she  persevered  and  tracked  him  to  his 
destination  ;  that  she  did  this  secretly  ;  and  that  the 
object  of  her  chase  had  no  idea  that  he  was  followed.  I 
know  that  notwithstanding  her  age,  and  her  decrepitude, 
she  made  this  journey  twice.  I  am  sure  that  a  very 
strong  interest  in  his  actions  must  have  influenced  her." 


78  A    GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

The  hag,  who,  during  these  last  remarks,  had  been 
eyeing  him  with  undisguised  astonishment,  now,  letting 
her  pipe  fall,  got  down  from  her  seat  as  quickly  as  her 
trembling  limbs  would  allow  her,  and  taking  up  the 
puny  light,  approached  her  visitor,  and  without  the 
least  attempt  to  hide  what  she  was  doing,  examined 
his  countenance  closely  and  curiously;  then  abruptly 
setting  down  the  candle,  she  put  the  unexpected 
question — 

"  Do  I  know  ye,  deary  ?  " 

"  You  must  be  the  best  judge  of  that,"  he  answered. 

"  There  was  two,"  continued  the  woman,  "  as  give 
me  three  and  sixpence  ;  two,  as  I  never  forgits,  out  of 
gratitood.  One  was  a  handsome  youth,  who  told  me — 
'twas  last  Christmas  Eve — that  he  hadn't  got  a  sweet 
heart,  and  that  his  name  warn't  Ned.  He  was — for  all 
he  told  me  a  lie — the  nephew  as  is  lost ;  and  t'other 
three  and  sixpence,  deary,  that  was  you." 

He  made  no  attempt  to  contradict  her,  and  she 
went  on,  grinning  with  delight  at  her  own  penetration. 

"  You  was  a  easy-going  chap  then,  deary,  not  so 
brisk  as  you  are  now ;  your  head  was  snowy  white 
then,  and  I'm  blessed  if  at  this  minute,  I  see  in  it  one 
white  hair ;  other  people  grows  older  with  time,  but 
you  has  the  secret  of  growing  young  again,  deary. 
Ha,  ha  !  give  me  your  secret  for  mine  ;  a  fair  exchange 
is  no  robbery ;  that  would  puzzle  you,  that  would. 
Aye,  for  all  the  change  that's  come  over  ye,  my  eyes  is 
sharper  than  ye  thought  for,  though  I  was  blind  at 
first ;  and  I  knows  ye  now,  and  would  know  ye  among 
a  thousand,  for  t'other  three  and  sixpence,  deary." 

As  he  still  remained  silent,  with  a  hoarse  chuckle, 
she  continued — 

"  Show  me  the  gold  again,  lovey ;  the  bright, 
sparkling  gold  in  your  purse  ;  'tis  chilly  and  cold,  and 
I'll  make  up  a  little  fire  in  the  grate,  and  sitting  before 
it,  we'll  have  a  chat  again — a  cozy,  comfortable  chat — 
and  you'll  give  me  the  purse  into  my  hand,  and  we'll 


MOTHER   COOMBS    HAS   A   VISITOR      79 

change  places,  while  I  talks  and  you  listens,  deary. 
Don't  be  afraid,  give  it  to  me.  I'll  not  run  away  with 
it.  I'll  help  ye,  I  will !  I'll  tell  ye  what  it'll  comfort 
ye  to  hear,  pretty  nigh  as  well  as  the  pipe,  lovey. 
Ugh,  how  the  wind  howls  outside,  and  roars  at  us  down 
the  chimney !  First  smoke  and  then  fire,  deary. 
Never  heed  what  ye  hears  at  the  neighbour's,  she's 
accustomed  to  it,  and  I  reckon  she  makes  more  on  it 
nor  it  is.  I've  heerd  her  screech,  that  I  never  thought 
to  see  her  alive  again,  but  she  isn't  dead  yet,  deary,  and 
half  of  it's  sham  I  don't  doubt." 

Drawing  her  chair  close  to  him,  the  hag  began  to 
relate,  and  he  to  listen.  The  fire  she  had  made  burnt 
up  briskly  and  crackled  lustily ;  the  only  lusty  thing 
there  !  The  rats,  reassured,  returned  to  their  ravages, 
and  hastened  to  complete  what  they  had  begun  ;  the 
wind  shrieked  in  at  the  window,  roared  through  the 
court,  and  shook  the  wretched  tenement,  till  it  trembled 
to  its  basis ;  the  fire  burned  itself  down  to  ashes ; 
the  fictitious  night  of  the  court  outside  turned  to  real 
night,  and  still  the  crackled,  eager  voice  of  the  hag, 
mumbled  at  his  ear,  and  still  his  watchful  eyes  were 
turned  towards  her  face. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE    DEAD    AND    THE     QUICK 

PONDERING  over  the  instability  of  human  greatness, 
and  with  a  shadowy  and  undefined  fear  haunting  the 
region  of  his  waistcoat — in  fact,  lying  heavy  there  in 
company  with  an  undigested  dinner,  taken  some 
hours  before — that  at  the  end  of  the  year,  now  in  its 
autumnal  and  shortening  stage,  the  burden  and  dignity 
of  mayorship  would  fall  from  his  shoulders — so  fitted  to 
bear  them — his  Honour  turns  out  of  the  ancestral  home 
which  he  adorns,  and  proceeds,  in  solitary  state  and 
grandeur,  to  take  his  constitutional. 

A  vague  suspicion,  which  certain  outward  signs  and 
tokens — palpable  enough  to  one  less  completely  arm 
oured  in  self-esteem  than  his  Honour — have  tended 
to  arouse,  that,  in  the  eyes  of  Cloisterham,  he  has  fallen 
somewhat  from  his  high  estate,  coupled  with  a  feeling 
— not  of  fear  as  yet,  but  as  nearly  like  it  as  one  so 
invulnerable  can  be  supposed  to  feel — that  on  some  sub 
sequent  occasions  he  had  not  quite  so  brilliantly  distin 
guished  himself  as  in  the  affair  of  Mr.  Landless  (when 
even  his  enemies  and  calumniators  had  been  compelled 
to  acknowledge,  in  spite  of  themselves,  that  he  had  not 
only  shone  as  a  bright  particular  star,  but  had  displayed 
a  depth  of  penetration  and  keenness  of  intellect  almost 
unparalleled)  gnaws  at  the  Mayor's  heart. 

Why  Mr.  Jasper,  whom  he  had  favoured  so  unre 
servedly  with  his  improving  conversation,  should  leave 
a  town  where  he  could  enjoy  that  privilege,  is  a  problem 
which  the  Mayor  does  not  attempt  to  solve. 

"  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes !  "  murmurs  the 

80 


THE   DEAD   AND   THE    QUICK  81 

Mayor,  pathetically,  as  he  paces  to  and  fro,  "  no,  nor 
in  choir-masters  !  " 

Dismissing  the  thought,  he  quickens  his  pace  invol 
untarily,  in  anticipation  of  the  treat  awaiting  him,  and 
of  the  complacent  admiration  of  himself  which  the 
perusal  of  the  epitaph  on  his  wife's  tombstone  never 
fails  to  awaken  ;  when,  to  his  surprise,  he  sees  that  he 
is  anticipated. 

Before  the  monument  of  Mrs.  Sapsea  is  a  man  upon 
his  knees,  who  rising  suddenly  and  turning  round, 
discloses  the  face  and  figure  of  Durdles — Durdles, 
begrimed  and  dusty,  with  a  short,  dirty  pipe,  brown 
from  constant  use,  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth  ;  a 
hammer  in  one  hand,  and  his  never-failing  dinner 
bundle — though  he  has  long  dined — in  the  other. 

"  Why,  it's  only  you,"  stammers  his  Honour  at  last. 

"  And  who  should  it  be,  if  not  Durdles  ?  "  replies 
that  worthy,  regarding  the  Mayor  with  a  by  no  means 
propitiatory  glance,  and  removing  his  short  pipe  from 
between  his  teeth,  to  spit  upon  the  grass.  "  Who 
comes  a  wishing  of  'em  except  Durdles  ?  When  the 
day's  fine  and  Durdles  have  got  a  ten-minute  to  spare, 
which  ain't  often,  through  being  most  overrun  with 
work,  and  not  a  bit  overrun  with  time  to  do  it  in, 
Durdles  comes  out  to  wisit  'em.  Not  having  wisited 
Mrs.  Sapsea  for  a  long  time,  a  year  a'most,  and  having 
a  notion  to  find  out  how  things  is  going  on  down  there 
with  that  old  'ooman,  and  having  fust  cleaned  himself, 
as  is  the  proper  thing  to  do  when  a  genleman  is  going 
to  call  upon  a  lady,  Durdles  sets  out  to  do  it." 

Mr.  Sapsea  gulps  down  the  feelings  which  are  naturally 
aroused  within  him  on  hearing  Mrs.  Sapsea,  deceased 
— who  would  have  been  a  sort  of  Lady  Mayoress,  if  her 
liver  had  supported  her  to  that  epoch — spoken  of  so 
disrespectfully,  as  an  "  old  woman,"  sagaciously  con 
sidering  that  any  expression  thereof  would  probably 
check  the  explanation,  upon  which  Durdles  has  now 
entered  in  earnest,  and  feeling,  in  spite  of  this 

G 


82  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

incomprehensible  beginning,  a  strong  curiosity  to  hear 
the  end. 

"  Well !  "  continues  Durdles,  drawing  strongly  on 
his  pipe,  and  puffing  the  smoke  with  perfect  indifference 
in  the  face  of  his  Honour,  "  I  takes  my  hammer,  which 
is  house-bell  and  front-door  knocker,  when  I  wisits 
them,  and  I  raps  and  raps,  and  raps  and  raps  again, 
and  leaves  off  rapping,  and  stare  and  poke  my  fingers 
into  my  ears,  which  seem  all  of  a  sudden  to  be  stopped 
up  with  cotton- wool,  and  raps  once  more.  It  warn't  of 
no  use  ;  there  wern't  no  cotton-wool  in  Durdles'  ears. 
They  was  as  clear  as  Natur  made  'em,  and  as  empty 
of  any  thing  or  body  to  obstruct  'em,  as  is  Mrs.  Sap- 
sea's  tomb.  Instead  o'  answering  to  the  perlite  hinquiry 
of  Durdles,  '  Well,  mum,  and  how  are  you  gitting  on 
down  there  ?  '  with  :  '  Pretty  well,  pretty  well,  Durdles, 
thankin'  you  kindly  for  the  haskin'  ;  as  well  as  can  be 
expected  within  the  narrow  limits  of  my  'abitation,  and 
the  consekent  closeness  of  the  hatmosphere,'  that 
perwerse  female,  contrairy  to  the  well-known  'abits  of 
her  sex,  remains  as  silent — as  silent  as  a  oyster. 
You  think  that  Mrs.  Sapsea  lies  in  that  there  silent 
tomb,  where  she  was  laid,  and  where  she  ought  to  lie. 
Durdles  thought  so,  and  yet  I  tell  ye  now,  and  Durdles 
knows  what  he's  talking  about,  that  she  ain't  there  no 
more  than  you  nor  me.  I  tell  ye  that  that  there  female, 
who  ought  in  the  nature  of  things  to  be  lying  quiet  and 
comfortable  where  she  was  buried,  has  wanished." 

"  Vanished !  "  repeats  the  Mayor  mechanically, 
"  vanished  !  You  are  drunk,  Durdles,  quite  indecently 
intoxicated.  I  am  ashamed  of  you  ;  I  wouldn't  have 
believed  it,  if  I  hadn't  seen  it  myself.  You  have  been 
talking  the  most  execrable  nonsense  ;  you  have  been 
fancying,  I  see  it  in  your  face,  that  you  frightened  me. 
Ha,  ha,  the  thought  tickles  me  !  You  would  have  to 
have  been  born,  Durdles,  a  long  time  before  you  could 
do  that.  The  man  you  see  before  you,"  continues  the 
Mayor,  pompously,  puffing  himself  out  like  a  turkey- 


THE  DEAD  AND  THE  QUICK     83 

cock,  the  high  colour  of  indignation  on  his  cheek  in 
creasing  his  resemblance  to  that  pugnacious  bird,  "  is 
a  man,  Durdles,  humbly,  yet  fully  conscious  of  his  social 
position ;  impregnated  with  the  belief  that  the  Almighty 
has  graciously  endowed  him  with  gifts  superior  to  the 
common  herd ;  grateful  for  his  high  station,  as  an 
Englishman  of  mark,  which,  in  contradiction  to  all 
foreigners — imbecile  lot ! — forbids  him  to  feel  fear. 
Come  to  me  when  you  are  sober ;  but  heed  my 
words,  and  make  off  for  to-day,  or  it  will  be  worse 
for  you/' 

"  No,  heed  my  words  !  "  exclaims  Durdles,  raising  his 
hand  solemnly,  "  heed  my  words,  you,  Mr.  Sapsea  ; 
I  tell  ye,  with  Cloisterham  a  hearing  of  me,  and  a  bearing 
witness  to  what  I  say,  that  Mrs.  Sapsea,  now  dead  nigh 
upon  two  years,  has  arose  from  her  grave,  and  is,  as 
likely  as  not,  a  walking  this  here  earth  of  ours.  I  tell 
ye,  that  it's  solemn  truth  that  her  coffin's  empty,  and 
that  she  has  wanished.  I  tell  ye,  that  she  may  be  a 
waiting  for  ye  in  your  house  there.  Go  in  and  be 
comfortable,  if  ye  can,  with  the  dead  at  yer  side.  If 
ye  doubts  Durdles'  words,  then  have  the  vault  entered 
and  the  coffin  opened,  and  ye'll  prove  them  true. 
Have  the  coffin  opened  and  then  say  if  Durdles  knows 
what  he's  a  talking  about.  I  renounces  ye  and  all  your 
works.  There's  an  old  saying  '  that  murdered  men 
can't  rest  in  their  graves.'  Murdered  women,  as  is 
nat'ral  in  the  sex,  may  be  more  restless  still.  There's 
folks  in  Cloisterham  as  says,  for  all  you  are  Mayor, 
that  you,  in  a  sort  of  way,  did  for  your  wife,  by  a  f orcin' 
that  poor  female,  as  was  weak  in  the  back  and  of  a 
sickly  constitootion,  to  break  it,  lookin'  up  to  ye !  " 


Miss  Twinkleton  and  Rosa  had  met  with  a  pleasant 
set  of  rooms  in  Brighton  facing  the  sea,  from  the  bow- 
windows  of  which  they  could  watch  the  brightly 
dressed  visitors  to  that  renowned  watering-place,  who, 


84  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

sauntering  by,  for  the  most  part  as  bright-faced  and 
cheerful  as  their  attire,  looked  as  if  they  had  cast  off 
London  care  with  London  dust  and  smoke,  and  made 
up  their  minds  thoroughly  to  enjoy  themselves. 

Their  landlady,  also,  was  as  gay  and  pleasant  in 
appearance  as  the  rooms  themselves,  and  might  have 
been  made  to  match  them  ;  so  there  was  every  reason 
to  hope  that  the  roses  on  both  ladies'  cheeks,  faded  in 
the  thunderous  atmosphere  surrounding  the  Billickin, 
would  bloom  again,  or  make  room  for  new  ones. 

The  fresh  air,  blowing  from  the  sea ;  the  music  of 
the  rolling  waves,  sometimes  varied — and  variety  is 
ever  charming — by  the  music  from  "  German  Bands  " 
upon  the  Promenade ;  the  rows  of  blooming  school 
girls,  walking  together  in  twos  and  threes,  headed  by 
a  young  teacher,  as  giddy  as  themselves,  and  brought 
up  in  the  rear  by  a  female  dragon,  stern  of  visage  and 
Argus-eyed,  reminding  Rosa  of  her  own  happy  school 
days  ;  the  joyous  laugh  from  the  children,  building 
speedily- demolished  sand-castles  on  the  beach ;  the 
brightness  and  cheerfulness  on  every  hand,  so  pleasant 
a  contrast  to  the  roar  and  rattle,  grit  and  dust  of  the 
vast  Babylon  they  had  left  behind — all  these  things 
cheered  Rosa,  and  lightened  the  load  on  her  sad  young 
heart. 

On  a  bright  sunny  morning,  Rosa,  leaving  Miss 
Twinkleton  and  the  landlady  in  deep  discussion  about 
the  dinner,  and  knowing  that  on  such  occasions  she 
could  well  be  spared,  slipped  away  down  to  the  beach, 
bent  on  finding  out  some  cosy  nook  by  the  water,  where 
she  could  sit  undisturbed,  fanned  by  the  cooling  sea 
breeze,  and  refresh  herself — for  in  whatever  gloomy 
channel  her  thoughts  ran,  they  always  did  refresh  her 
— with  the  glories  of  the  sea. 

She  passed,  also,  a  group  of  robust  seamen,  who 
greeted  her  kindly  in  their  rough  way,  and  one  of  them, 
who   had  lost   a   bright-eyed   daughter   many   year 
before,  looked  wistfully  down  upon  the  beautiful  little 


THE    DEAD    AND   THE    QUICK  85 

face,  sending    after    her   a    hearty   "  God    bless    ye, 
Missy." 

Leaving  them,  too,  behind,  Rosa  went  on  until  she 
came  to  a  spot  secluded  enough  to  satisfy  her.  A  large 
boat,  drawn  up  high  upon  the  shore,  afforded  her 
protection  against  the  hot  sun,  and  shut  out  all 
sight  and  almost  all  sound  of  the  people  upon  the 
beach. 

With  a  soft,  dreamy  sensation  stealing  over  her ;  a 
peace  and  comfort  indescribable  ;  a  feeling  of  security 
and  happiness  which  she  had  not  felt  for  months  ;  she 
lazily  watched  the  boats  upon  the  water  rowing  to  and 
fro — some  fishing-smacks  manned  by  sunburnt,  hard- 
featured,  and  hard-handed  mariners  ;  some  pleasure 
boats,  brightly  painted,  and  with  gay  awnings  to  shield 
the  passengers  from  the  burning  sunshine,  until  at  last 
her  attention  was  attracted  to  a  smart  little  yacht, 
which  appeared  to  be  bearing  straight  towards  the  spot 
where  she  was  sitting.  Its  white  sails  bellied  out 
in  the  breeze,  and  the  figure-head  seemed,  to  her  idle 
fancy,  to  be  leaning  intently  forward  to  spy  her  out  in 
her  hiding-place. 

Smiling  at  her  own  folly,  Rosa,  nevertheless,  watched 
with  interest  the  natty  little  craft  which  evidently 
intended  to  put  in  at  Brighton  ;  and  as  it  came  nearer, 
she  saw  that  there  were  gentlemen  on  board.  With 
half-closed  eyes  she  noticed  all  this,  and  noted  it  sleepily 
in  some  corner  of  her  brain  ;  and  then  the  delicious 
drowsiness  was  not  to  be  contended  against  any  longer 
—she  had  slept  but  little  the  night  before — and,  lulled 
by  the  soft  murmur  of  the  waves,  her  heavy  lids  closed, 
and  she  fell  asleep. 

In  her  dreams  the  yacht,  which  had  been  the  last 
object  apparent  to  her  waking  senses,  still  haunted  her. 
She  seemed  to  see  it  plainly  still,  as  it  sailed  straight  to 
wards  her,  ever  nearer  and  nearer,  until  at  last,  with  a 
grating  sound,  it  stranded  upon  the  sand  at  her  feet,  and 
the  mysterious  figure-head,  coming  out  of  its  place  and 


86  A    GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

approaching  her,  revealed  itself  before  her  astonished 
vision  as — Mr.  Tartar. 

Mr.  Tartar  !  who  from  head  and  upper  part,  came 
into  sudden  possession  of  a  body  and  legs,  in  a  manner 
which  would  have  been  miraculous  out  of  the  land  of 
dreams,  and  which  startled  Rosa,  not  a  little,  even 
there  ;  for  she  was  looking  now  with  her  eyes  wide  open 
— her  hat  fallen  off,  and  her  hair  dishevelled — right  into 
the  blue  orbs  of  the  sea-lieutenant :  into  the  blue  eyes 
of  Mr.  Tartar  which  looked  out  smilingly  from  his  sun 
burnt  visage  as  he  stood,  hat  in  hand,  looking  down 
upon  her. 

Springing  up  hurriedly,  covered  with  confusion  and 
blushes  which  enhanced  her  loveliness  (at  least  the  sea- 
lieutenant  seemed  to  think  so)  a  thousand-fold,  Rosa 
rubbed  her  eyes,  to  punish  them  for  their  laziness,  and 
with  a  puzzled  look  at  the  sea,  where  no  yacht  was  to 
be  seen,  came  at  last  to  the  conclusion  that  she  had  been 
sleeping,  and  was  now  awake,  and  that  she  must  have 
been  sleeping  for  a  time,  for  the  water,  which  had 
been  almost  at  her  feet,  had  retreated  some  distance, 
leaving  a  wide  stretch  of  sand  before  her. 

The  sea-lieutenant  appeared  in  no  hurry,  not  in  the 
least ;  he  stood  as  steadily  and  quietly  as  if  he  were 
stationed  there  in  performance  of  his  duty,  and  would 
have  been  ready  and  willing  to  stand  another  hour ; 
yet  his  blue  eyes  seemed  totally  indifferent  to  the  glories 
of  the  sea  and  sky  before  him,  and  to  have  only  thought 
and  feeling  for  the  sweet  face  on  which  he  gazed. 

"  How  did  you  come  here  ?  "  enquired  Rosa,  still 
colouring  deeply,  and  so  angry  with  herself  for  doing 
so  that  tears  of  vexation  came  into  her  eyes.  "  Oh,  if 
anything  is  the  matter,  tell  me  so  at  once." 

At  these  words,  Mr.  Tartar  recovered  the  use  of  his 
tongue,  and  the  rest  of  his  senses,  all  of  which,  with  the 
exception  of  sight  (which  had  been  put,  as  it  were, 
under  high  pressure)  appeared  to  have  deserted  him 
(or  perhaps  had  been  absorbed  into  that  faculty),  and 


THE  DEAD  AND  THE  QUICK     87 

becoming  aware  of  the  indiscretion  of  staring  a  young 
lady  out  of  countenance,  turned  as  red  as  she,  and  began 
to  murmur  an  apology. 

Nothing  whatever  was  the  matter,  and  he  begged 
her  pardon  for  having  startled  her  by  appearing  before 
her  so  unexpectedly.  He  had  been  looking  for  her, 
commissioned  to  do  so  by  Mr.  Grewgious,  who  was  now 
waiting  for  them  at  the  lodgings,  and  finding  her  so 
sound  asleep,  had  not  dared  to  disturb  her  slumbers. 
Would  she  forgive  him,  and  believe  that  he — that  he — 
in  short  (quite  overwhelmed  with  confusion),  it  was 
a  dilemma,  now,  wasn't  it  ? 

Rosa,  busy  smoothing  her  ruffled  hair,  and  arranging 
her  hat,  made  no  attempt  to  answer  that  question, 
being  absorbed  in  another ;  to  wit :  what  would  the 
girls  say,  if  they  knew,  which  they  never  should,  that 
he  had  found  her  asleep  ;  and  her  hair  as  rough  as 
rough  could  be  ?  And  how  modest  and  handsome 
he  looked  standing  there,  with  his  hat  still  in  his  hand  ! 

"  We  all  came  together,"  explained  Mr.  Tartar, 
"  about  an  hour  ago ;  Mr.  Crisparkle  and  myself  in 
my  yacht  (the  weather  is  so  lovely,  that  I  persuaded 
him  to  a  little  trip  with  me),  and  Mr.  Grewgious  came 
down  by  train  to  meet  us  here.  I  thought,"  he  con 
tinued  modestly,  "  that  perhaps  the  ladies  would  favour 
us  with  their  company  on  board  for  a  few  hours.  The 
weather  is  all  that  can  be  desired,  and  Lobley,  my  man, 
you  know,  is  quite  enraptured  at  the  idea  of  doing  the 
honours  of  the  water.  He  was  running  to  seed  in 
London,  and  it  would  be  a  matter  of  charity  to  give  him 
something  to  do."  Would  she — would  Miss  Twinkle- 
ton — gratify  them  both,  and  let  him  show  them 
Brighton  from  the  sea  ? 

"  I  should  like  to  go  myself  Mr.  Tartar  ;  very  much, 
I  am  sure ;  but  I  am  afraid  Miss  Twinkleton  won't. 
Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  am  certain  she  won't. 
She's  just  the  sort  of  person  to  be  extremely  sea-sick, 
and  though  she  might  say  '  yes,'  not  to  disappoint  me, 


88  A    GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

I  couldn't  accept  the  sacrifice  on  any  account ;  so, 
though  I  am  very,  very  sorry  you  have  had  so  much 
trouble  for  nothing,  I  fear  we  must  give  it  up." 

She  began  to  wonder  again — this  time  puzzling  her 
little  head,  as  to  why  it  was  so  difficult  to  do  right ; 
and  even  to  know,  with  certainty,  what  was  right.  She 
wanted  to  be  good ;  she  wanted  to  avoid  being  the 
cause  of  undeserved  suffering  to  others,  and  was  willing 
to  suffer  herself  instead ;  and  now,  here  was  another 
who  would  be  happy  if  she  only  took  thought  for  herself. 
She  knew  it  was  so,  by  the  sinking  of  her  overburdened 
heart.  Oh,  if  she  had  but  a  mother  to  tell  her  what  was 
really  right,  and  what  she  ought  to  do  ! 

So  she  walked  by  his  side,  sad  and  troubled,  while  he 
was  feeling  somehow  as  if  the  sunshine  had  faded,  and 
the  laughter  of  the  merrymakers  on  the  beach  were 
hollow  mockery. 

Presently  Rosa  asked  how  it  was  that  they  had 
known  where  to  look  for  her,  and  her  companion  ex 
plained  that  Miss  Twinkleton  had  told  them  she  was 
probably  upon  the  beach  ;  that  he  and  Mr.  Crisparkle 
had  volunteered  to  go  and  look  for  her  ;  and  that,  after 
a  short  search,  he  had  lighted  upon  her  resting-place. 
The  Minor  Canon  was  no  doubt  searching  still 

They  were  now  close  to  the  lodgings,  and  Rosa 
fancied  that  she  could  distinguish  Miss  Twinkleton's 
stiff  curls,  and  Mr.  Grewgious'  smooth  head  behind 
the  curtains  of  the  bow  window  ;  when  it  occurred  to 
her  that  it  was  hardly  fair  to  Mr.  Crisparkle  to  leave 
him  to  his  fate  ;  and  with  her  usual  impulsive  quickness 
she  said  so. 

And/oh  dear  !  what  a  long  time  they  were  in  finding 
Mr.  Crisparkle  !  As  if  that  gentleman  had  provided 
himself  with  a  coat  of  invisibility  for  the  occasion  ; 
or,  in  league  with  Mr.  Tartar,  shrouded  his  cheerful 
countenance  in  a  veil  too  dense  to  penetrate.  Once 
or  twice,  Rosa  felt  almost  sure  she  saw  him  in  the 
distance ;  but  she  must  have  been  mistaken,  for  Mr. 


THE   DEAD   AND   THE   QUICK  89 

Tartar,  whose  eyes,  as  he  gravely  informed  her,  were 
so  accustomed  to  distinguish  objects  far  ahead,  as  to  be 
incapable  of  erring,  always  persisted  that  she  was 
wrong,  and  turning  would  recommence  the  search  in 
an  opposite  direction. 

It  was  remarkable,  too,  that  in  spite  of  their  hurry, 
the  sea-lieutenant's  pace  was  extremely  easy  ;  and 
when  Rosa  rather  uneasily  proposed  that  they  should 
mend  it,  he  informed  her  that  having  only  just  "  cast  " 
his  sea-legs,  as  it  were,  he  found  it  difficult  to  get  accus 
tomed  to  his  land  ones  ;  he  hoped,  however,  that  with 
time  and  patience,  he  might  yet  learn  to  use  them  with 
a  landsman's  agility.  Furthermore,  she  could  not  help 
noticing,  that  his  far-seeing  eyes,  instead  of  sweeping 
the  distance,  rested  repeatedly  on  her  face,  where  of 
course  he  could  not  expect  to  find  Mr.  Crisparkle ; 
and  she  could  have  cried  with  vexation,  as  she  keenly 
realised  that  he  made  use  of  the  bright  blushes  which 
his  earnest  gaze  called  up  there,  as  nutriment  for  his 
hopes.  And  the  worst,  and  hardest  of  it  was,  that 
she  could  not  help  liking  and  admiring  him  through 
it  all. 

At  length,  when  she  could  speak  without  betraying 
her  emotion,  she  expressed  her  determination  to  return 
to  the  lodgings  ;  for,  on  the  one  hand,  Miss  Twinkleton 
would  be  shocked  at  her  remaining  out  so  long  ;  and, 
on  the  other,  she  felt  certain  that  Mr.  Crisparkle  was 
waiting  for  them  there,  and  had  given  up  the  search  as 
hopeless,  long  ago. 

Of  course,  Mr.  Tartar  had  no  choice  but  to  accom 
pany  her  ;  and  lo,  and  behold  !  as  they  recrossed  the 
beach,  there  was  the  Revd.  Septimus,  bearing  down 
upon  them  in  full  sail,  very  hot  from  hard  walking, 
and  with  the  faintest,  tiniest,  little  idea  of  a  shadow  on 
his  face. 

After  warmly  greeting  Rosa,  and  expressing  his 
pleasure  at  seeing  her  look  so  well — poor  child,  the 
bright  colour  on  her  cheeks  had  been  called  up  by  shame 


go  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

and  vexation ! — he  turned  wonderingly  towards  his 
friend. 

"  Why,  Tartar,  what  on  earth  have  you  been  running 
away  from  me  for  ?  I've  seen  you  twenty  times, 
and  then,  as  if  by  magic,  you  disappeared.  It's  made 
me  uncommonly  warm,"  he  continued,  taking  off  his 
hat  to  let  the  fresh  sea-breeze  play  about  his  temples, 
"  and  reminded  me  of  as  stiff  a  game  of  hide  and  seek 
as  I  ever  played  in  my  life." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

A    DAY    UPON    THE    WATER 

IN  the  pretty  parlour,  directly  opposite  Miss  Twinkle- 
ton,  sits  Mr.  Grewgious,  waiting  for  the  return  of  his 
ward.  The  poor  man  has  found  the  time  long.  He 
has  been  bountifully  regaled  with  a  moral  repast ;  and, 
to  judge  by  the  appearance  of  his  discomfited  look, 
perplexed  face,  and  ruffled  locks — ruffled  from  excess  of 
smoothing — seems  to  have  found  it  rather  strong  than 
savoury.  He  is  now  engaged  in  digesting  it,  and  is 
troubled  by  the  reflection  that  it  must  be  some  serious 
fault  in  his  organisation  which  makes  it  disagree  with 
him. 

But  the  downcast  and  depressed  physiognomy  of 
Mr.  Grewgious  brightens  up  amazingly  at  sight  of  his 
ward,  and  of  her  glowing  cheeks  ;  and  when  she,  with  a 
little  burst  of  delight  at  feeling  herself  safe  again  under 
his  protection,  throws  her  arms  around  his  neck, 
letting  her  loosened  brown  curls  play  about  it,  to  press 
her  warm,  soft  lips  to  his  withered  face,  he  reddens, 
bashful  as  a  schoolboy.  But  he  likes  it.  Oh,  he  likes 
it !  Proud,  happy  and  elate,  he  enters  into  a  mental 
calculation  as  to  how  much  Mr.  Crisparkle  would  give 
for  it,  and  how  much  more,  multiplied  a  hundred-fold, 
Mr.  Tartar.  And  he  forgets  all  about  Miss  Twinkleton, 
as  he  lays  his  favoured  arm  round  Rosa's  waist,  and, 
drawing  the  sweet  little  flushed  face  close  to  his  to  let 
his  short-sighted  eyes  feast  upon  it  at  their  ease,  asks 
her  what  has  kept  them  so  long. 

It  is  naughty  of  Rosa  !  It  is  utterly  unanswerable, 
inconsiderate  and  non-resolution-like  of  Rosa,  with 

91 


92  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

those  wistful  blue  eyes  upon  her  !  Why,  if  even  Mr. 
Crisparkle,  with  his  heart  full  of  the  remembrance  of 
another  girlish  figure  ;  with  tender  recollections  of 
other  warm  lips  upon  his  hand ;  with  eyes  softening 
even  now  at  the  thought  of  other  dark  eyes,  so  haughty 
and  resolute  for  the  rest  of  the  world,  so  gentle  and 
submissive  when  they  meet  his — why,  if  even  Mr. 
Crisparkle  looks  on  with  admiration,  and,  perhaps,  some 
envy,  what  must  be  the  feelings  of  the  sea-lieutenant  ? 
It  is  naughty  of  Rosa,  with  those  longing  eyes  upon 
her  face  ! 

And,  alas  for  her  resolution,  doomed  to  be  attacked 
so  fatally  this  morning  !  What  on  earth  can  she  have 
been  thinking  of  to  make  such  a  monstrous  and  incom 
prehensible  assertion,  to  wit :  that  she  believes  Miss 
Twinkleton  is  afraid  of  the  water.  Has  Rosa  ever 
known — Miss  T.  puts  the  question  with  stern  pathos 
and  total  forgetfulness  of  the  Billickin — has  Rosa  ever 
known  her  afraid  of  anything  ?  Is  Miss  Twinkleton 
not  already  dressed — quite  youthfully  and  charmingly 
dressed — for  the  occasion  ?  And  she  will  not  cast  a 
damper  upon  the  pleasure  in  prospect  by  referring, 
however  distantly,  to  a  word  in  private  and  in  season 
which  she  must  address  to  her  young  charge  as  to  the 
impropriety  of  remaining  alone  so  long  upon  the  beach. 
And  so  speaking,  Miss  T.  hurries  Rosa  away  to  make 
her  toilette. 

Now  it  happens  that  that  lady,  usually  so  discreet, 
has  caught  a  glimpse  of  Mr.  Tartar's  longing  blue  eyes, 
and  interpreted  their  unspoken  words,  not  only  without 
anger,  but  also  with  a  certain  satisfaction.  Her  pretty 
charge  united  to  that  handsome  gentleman  ;  herself — 
ahem  ! — united  to  a  gentleman  whose  moral  qualities 
more  than  compensate  for  his  want  of  personal  attrac 
tions — what  further  need  of  professing  to  regard  these 
possible  events  as  otherwise  than  natural  and  desirable  ? 
With  the  cap  of  the  matron  upon  her  corkscrew  curls, 
Miss  T.  feels  that  she  would  be  even  capable  of  avowing, 


A    DAY    UPON    THE    WATER  93 

that,  after  all,  the  fetters  of  matrimony  are  easier  to  bear 
than  is  the  burden  of  single  blessedness. 

A  movement  downstairs  as  of  impatiently  pacing 
gentlemanly  feet  so  alarms  Miss  Twinkleton,  before 
whose  lively  imagination  arises  a  vision  of  the  yacht 
stranded  ;  Lobley's  sunflower  face  behind  a  cloud  ; 
the  gentlemanly  feet  pacing  off  without  them  ;  and  her 
own  hopes  for  ever  shattered,  that  she  almost  drags 
Rosa  downstairs  again  into  the  parlour,  where  they 
arrive,  breathless. 

Still  breathless,  Rosa  finds  herself  on  the  road  to  the 
shore,  supported  by  Mr.  Tartar  and  Mr.  Crisparkle, 
while  Miss  Twinkleton  follows  close  behind,  her  virgin 
hand  resting  on  Mr.  Grewgious'  stiffly  bent  arm,  and  her 
faded  blue  eyes  brightened  with  unwonted  light,  as 
she  smiles  into  his  face,  improving  the  occasion,  and 
deeming  herself  already  in  Elysium. 

"  This  is  pleasure,  indeed,  Mr.  Grewgious !  "  she 
murmurs  when  they  are  aboard. 

He  is  trying  for  some  compromise  between  his 
inmost  thoughts,  and  the  sentiments  which  politeness 
would  seem  to  demand,  when  a  roll  of  the  ship  sends  his 
cap  over  his  eyes,  and  shuts  out  simultaneously  both 
Miss  Twinkleton  and  the  heaving  sea. 

"  The  wind  is  rising,"  pursues  Miss  Twinkleton, 
whose  spirits  are  rising,  too,  to  an  appalling  degree, 
and  who  is  exhibiting  unmistakable  signs  of  a  highly 
alarming  preceptorial  gaiety,  "  and  our  attentive  host 
has  just  informed  me  that  our  fairy  craft  is  going  at 
the  rate  of — I  forget  how  many — knots  an  hour." 
(Miss  Twinkleton  lays  an  emphasis  on  the  word  knots, 
as  an  intimation  that  she  always  puts  the  right  word  in 
the  right  place.) 

Something  very  unpleasant,  indeed — not  wind — is 
rising  in  Mr.  Grewgious'  throat,  but  with  a  tremendous 
effort  he  gulps  it  down,  and  once  more  emerging  from 
his  cap,  looks  about  him. 

Presently  Mr.  Grewgious  suddenly  and  unceremoni- 


94  A    GREAT    MYSTERY   SOLVED 

ously  turns  his  back  on  the  expectant  Miss  Twinkle- 
ton,  and  shows  her  an  unmistakably  cold  shoulder. 
Falling  into  the  extended  arms  of  Lobley,  Mr.  Tartar's 
man,  who  turns  up  at  the  very  nick  of  time,  the 
prostrate  gentleman  is  conveyed  into  the  tiny  cabin 
by  that  dexterous  seaman. 

He  remains  a  full  hour  eclipsed,  but  at  the  end  of 
that  time  he  allows  the  beams  of  his  countenance  to 
irradiate  the  deck  again.  He  is  pale,  but  composed. 
He  is  gently  pensive,  but  tranquil.  He  has  been 
tended  by  the  attentive  Lobley,  who  allows  his  con 
tempt  for  the  greenness  of  the  subject  only  so  much 
licence  as  may  be  gratified  by  stealthy  grins  behind  the 
patient's  back. 

At  a  sign  from  Mr.  Tartar,  Lobley  presents  a  bottle  all 
round  as  a  preventive.  Miss  Twinkleton  refuses  at 
first  with  some  indignation,  but  yields  at  last  to 
the  persuasions  of  the  sea-lieutenant.  She  becomes 
immediately  unconscious  of  an  inside,  and  almost  for 
gets  her  sorrows.  They  all  become,  as  if  by  magic,  more 
lively.  The  spirits,  which  have  been  ebbing,  rise  again. 

Lobley,  who  has  disappeared  with  the  bottle, 
reappears  with  everything  necessary  for  a  cold  collation, 
and  arranges  and  lays  a  table,  with  a  seaman's  neatness 
and  dexterity,  upon  the  deck.  Lobley  is  conscious, 
though  with  becoming  modesty,  that  this  sort  of  thing 
can  only  be  done  to  perfection  on  the  water.  He  shows 
a  gentle  sympathy,  and  manifests  a  mild  compassion 
for  those  unfortunates  who  have  spent  their  lives  on 
land,  and  who  cannot  conceive  the  bliss  of  a  storm  at 
sea.  He  is  particularly  considerate  towards  Mr.  Grew- 
gious,  as  a  strong  man  might  be  towards  a  helpless 
child,  and  has  an  air  about  him,  as  if  he  were  constantly, 
in  imagination,  patting  that  worthy  gentleman  upon 
the  back.  He  flanks  the  table  with  bottles  of  rare 
wine,  chosen  by  the  sea-lieutenant  for  the  occasion,  and 
finally  announces,  with  the  manner  of  a  butler-in-chief 
to  King  Neptune,  that  the  feast  is  ready. 


A   DAY    UPON    THE    WATER  95 

Miss  Twinkleton,  who,  in  lieu  of  the  faithless  Mr. 
Grewgious,  has  been  victimizing  the  good-natured 
Minor  Canon,  and  making  him  acquainted,  in  a  funereal 
voice,  with  certain  sombre  recollections  of  her  youth, 
when  occasions,  expected  to  be  pleasurable,  turned  to 
woe,  and  bright  and  promising  mornings  ended  in 
darkest  night,  winds  up  with  the^trite  observation, 
"  That  this  is  indeed  a  vale  of  tears,  Mr.  Crisparkle," 
lets  fall  one,  shares  in  the  good  things  before  her, 
and  is  comforted.  Mr.  Crisparkle,  who  has  deemed  it 
a  matter  of  courtesy  not  to  contradict  a  lady,  though 
cherishing  in  secret  his  own  private  ideas  of  life,  sees 
less  reason  than  ever  to  change  his  views  on  the  subject. 
Mr.  Grewgious  partakes,  in  moderation,  and  after  due 
consultation  with  Lobley  ;  for  whose  wisdom,  he  in 
forms  their  host,  in  an  audible  whisper,  he  entertains 
the  highest  respect.  The  spirits  which  have  been  ebbing 
fast,  rise  high  again. 

Lobley,  behind  Miss  Twinkleton's  spare  shoulders, 
lets  fall  mysterious  hints  of  a  dinner  in  course  of 
preparation,  more  wonderful  than  the  mind  of  a 
landsman  can  conceive. 

He  pours  out  a  glass  of  wine  for  the  good  lady  as  he 
speaks,  and  recommends  her  to  "  tip  it  off,"  for  it  will  do 
her  good.  She  follows  the  recommendation,  quaffs 
the  fragrant  liquid,  and  is  heard  to  laugh,  actually  to 
laugh. 

As  for  Mr.  Tartar  and  Rosa — what  makes  Mr.  Grew 
gious — viewing  them  intently  with  screwed-up  eyes — 
what  makes  him  so  fidgetty  and  restless  ?  Is  it  not  a 
pleasant  sight,  that  delicate,  girlish  figure,  those  graceful 
proportions  ?  Is  it  not  a  delight  to  contemplate 
that  soft  brown  hair,  loosened  by  the  wind,  which, 
falling  free  over  her  black  dress,  shines  there  like  sun 
shine  ?  Or  is  it  the  figure  at  her  side,  brave,  manly,  and 
modest ;  frank,  fearless,  and  unassuming — is  that  an 
object  to  trouble  Mr.  Grewgious  ? 

No.     It  is  the  look  in  the  sea-lieutenant's  handsome 


96  A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

face,  plain  even  to  his  short-sighted  eyes.  He  has  not 
seen  it  often,  but  he  has  felt  it  once ;  and  he  knows, 
ah  !  he  knows  full  well  what  it  means. 

Good  God  !  Does  the  child  love  him  ?  He  cannot 
see  her  face,  for  it  is  turned  towards  the  sea,  but  her 
figure  is  shrinking,  her  head  downcast.  He  hears  Miss 
Twinkleton  expatiating  on  the  amount  of  the  infor 
mation  she  has  gained.  He  hears  various  cries  and 
exclamations  from  the  sailors.  He  hears  Mr.  Cris- 
parkle  call  him  to  come  and  look  through  the  telescope. 
But  he  heeds  none  of  them.  He  is  absorbed  in  his 
anxiety  to  see  the  child's  face,  and  read  its  meaning  if 
he  can.  As  if  he  were  her  father — and  no  father  could 
feel  more  tenderly,  more  lovingly  towards  the  little 
creature,  whom  he  loves  for  her  dear  sake — he  thinks 
of  her  at  this  moment  only  as  "  the  child." 

At  last  he  sees  it ;  pale,  troubled,  with  the  tears 
trembling  on  her  dark  lashes,  and  with  quivering  lips. 
What  has  he  been  saying  to  her  ? 

Mr.  Grewgious  does  not  wait  to  answer  his  own 
question,  but  hurries  across  the  deck,  reckless  of  his 
unhappy  propensity  for  running  foul  of  everything  in  his 
way,  and  almost  capsizing  the  telescope  and  the  Minor 
Canon  ;  and  for  the  rest  of  the  day  he  does  not  leave 
her  side  again. 

What  fun  it  is,  Rosa  thinks,  to  see  sure-footed  Mr. 
Crisparkle  cross  the  deck,  so  uncertain  and  so  slow. 
And  to  see  Miss  Twinkleton  give  it  up  at  the  first  step 
and  fall  plump  into  Lobley's  tatooed  arms.  And  to 
feel  herself  reeling  and  staggering  like  a  drunken  man, 
when  she  makes  the  experiment  herself.  Oh,  the  fun 
and  frolic  of  that  day  upon  the  water  ! 

And  when  the  sun  sets,  going  down  into  the  deep 
blue  water  like  a  ball  of  molten  gold,  dyeing  the  heavens 
deep  red  and  purple  in  its  passage,  and  lighting  up  the 
whole  great  ocean  with  tints  of  gold  ! 

And  in  the  mysterious  twilight,  almost  windstill, 
when  the  sailors,  incited  by  Lobley,  sing  snatches  of 


A   DAY   UPON   THE   WATER  97 

wild  sea-songs,  weird  and  strange  to  hear ;  when  Mr. 
Tartar  appears  in  the  character  of  a  first-rate  tenor,  and 
Mr.  Crisparkle  gives  them  the  essence  of  the  "  Alternate 
Musical  Wednesdays,"  in  his  cheerful  bass,  Mr.  Grew- 
gious  joining  in,  and,  taking  the  will  for  the  deed,  not 
badly  either,  in  the  chorus ;  when  Rosa's  fresh  voice 
sings  a  sweet  song  of  love  ;  and  even  Miss  Twinkleton 
contributes  her  mite  in  a  sentimental  ballad  of  her 
girlhood,  the  substance  of  which  is,  emphatically,  that 
"  Men  are  false,  and  women  are  fair."  Oh,  the  happi 
ness,  and  sweet,  sweet  peace  of  that  day  upon  the  water  ! 
It  is  over  at  last.  The  gentlemen  are  gone  their 
various  ways,  and  Rosa  and  Miss  Twinkleton  are  alone 
again  in  their  lodgings.  Late  as  it  is,  the  elder  lady 
would  like  to  improve  the  occasion,  but  Rosa,  some 
what  stormily  pleading  great  weariness,  is  finally  (not 
without  a  struggle)  permitted  to  retire  for  the  night, 
unimproved  and  unreproved.  The  fight  between 
inclination  and  duty  has  been  fought  out  to  the  end, 
and  Rosa's  wishes  have  been  conquered  by  Rosa's 
sense  of  duty.  As  she  lays  her  weary  head  upon  the 
pillow,  her  slight  frame  trembles  with  emotion  that  is 
not  joy,  and  her  cheeks  are  wet  with  scalding  drops, 
which  she  cannot  persuade  even  herself  to  be  tears  of 
happiness. 


H 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE   PLACE  IS   HAUNTED  ! 

A  STRANGE  rumour  has  sprung  up  in  Cloisterham 
(always,  by-the-by,  a  fruitful  and  well  prepared  bed  for 
such  a  growth,  by  reason  of  its  chronic  drowsiness), 
and  has  developed  with  such  amazing  rapidity 
that  it  has  become,  as  it  were,  a  stately  tree,  over 
shadowing  the  whole  community,  before  anyone  has 
thought  of  attacking  its  young  life,  and  nipping  it  in  the 
bud.  A  sort  of  Upas  tree,  diffusing  sickly  vapours  all 
around,  and  destroying  every  plant  of  healthier 
growth  in  its  vicinity  ;  and  not  only  overwhelming 
Cloisterham,  but  extending  beyond  the  confines  of  that 
ancient  city,  and  tainting  with  its  poisonous  breath  the 
country  for  miles  on  every  side.  Passers  through  the 
town  suck  in  the  poison  on  the  road  there,  and  becoming 
deeply  and  mortally  affected  during  the  transit,  carry 
it  out  with  them  far  beyond.  Swarthy  labourers, 
housing  the  golden  harvest,  relate  it  to  new  comers, 
with  loud  guffaws  of  disbelief,  in  the  burning  sunshine ; 
but  huddle  together  when  the  evening  comes,  like  a 
flock  of  sheep,  and  not  one  would  risk,  on  any  account, 
being  left  alone  in  the  solitary  field,  where  the  harvest 
moon  is  shining.  Errant  schoolboys,  heedless  of  the 
master's  threatening  rod,  linger  behind  in  shady  lanes, 
to  whisper  it  into  the  ears  of  their  fellows,  round-eyed 
and  open-mouthed,  with  wonder.  Old  wives  and  young 
maids ;  old  maids  and  young  wives,  forget  old  heart 
burnings,  and  cackle  about  it  over  a  friendly  cup  of  tea, 
with  weird  delight  in  its  horrors,  as  only  the  much 
maligned  female  sex  can  cackle.  Sturdy  citizens  of 

98 


THE    PLACE   IS   HAUNTED!  99 

Cloisterham,  foaming  over  with  it  in  emulation  of  their 
foaming  beer,  gather  together  in  cozy  bar-rooms,  and, 
drinking  an  extra  pot  or  two,  to  give  it  seasoning,  con 
fide  to  each  other  their  various  informations  concerning 
it ;  then  stagger  home  at  midnight,  irate  and  out  of 
pocket,  to  scold  their  expectant  wives  for  having 
chattered  about  the  same  thing  at  home,  and  finally  go 
heavily  to  bed,  to  dream  mayhap,  in  remembrance  of 
their  late  waking  propensity,  of  two  ghosts  instead 
of  one. 

For  it  is  a  ghost  which  troubles  Cloisterham.  A 
ghost  raised  up,  no  one  knows  by  whose  agency,  and 
refusing  with  the  tenacity  of  a  shadow,  to  be  laid  again. 
"  The  place  is  haunted  !  " 

Not  by  long  dead  monk  or  nun,  committed  "  dust  to 
dust  and  ashes  to  ashes,'*  centuries  ago,  and  putting 
itself  together,  God  knows  how !  with  most  unpardonable 
self-conceit,  in  order  to  present  itself  to  public  scrutiny, 
when  its  time  for  being  taken  notice  of,  and  of  taking 
notice,  is  past  long  years  before.  Not  by  any  of  the 
"  old  uns  "  '  far  too  wise  now  to  meddle  with  the  often 
dirty  affairs  of  mortals,  with  which  they  soiled  their 
fingers,  in  the  times  when  they  were,  they  rest  peace 
fully  in  their  coffins  under  the  vaults,  until  pitched  into 
by  Durdles  or  his  satellites,  then  turn  to  dust  without 
a  moment's  notice,  or  a  moment's  inclination  to  resist 
their  fate.  Shrinking  from  public  notice,  instead  of 
courting  it,  they  sleep  a  dreamless  sleep  in  their  prison 
houses,  and  enjoy  deep  unconscious  rest  after  their 
short  span  of  life  ;  rest  from  toil  and  care  ;  rest  from 
fierce  passions  and  ambitions  ;  rest  from  cruel  oppres 
sion  of  their  fellow-men  ;  rest  from  crimes  unrevealed, 
which  only  the  last  great  day  will  bring  to  light. 
And  till  that  summons  comes,  they  sleep  undisturbed 
and  undisturbing,  leaving  their  successors  to  live  out 
their  little  day,  until  their  night  comes  too,  as  they  did 
before  them. 

What  is  it  then  that  haunts  Cloisterham  ?     Rumour 


loo          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

can  tell  you,  for  Rumour  knows  all  about  it ;  gets 
entangled  sometimes  in  the  fullness  of  its  information  ; 
running  risk  of  tripping  up,  or  being  tripped  up,  like 
a  naughty  boy  telling  a  story.  Rumour  can  tell  you 
that  a  female,  tall,  sepulchral-looking — most  natural 
for  one,  who  spends  her  day  time  in  a  sepulchre — clothed 
in  white — (of  course  !  what  ghost  would  appear  in  a 
black  garment !  its  object  being  to  be  seen,  one  would 
suppose,  or  why  turn  out  at  all  ?  and  clothing  of  a 
sombre  hue  being  undiscernible  by  mortal  vision  in 
the  dead  of  night) — and  in  flowing  garments  ;  in  short, 
with  every  indispensable  to  make  it  thoroughbred  and 
indisputably  legitimate ;  and  always  on  view  at  mid 
night  in  the  churchyard,  or  in  the  Cathedral,  "  a  singing 
ghostly  songs,"  or  in  the  vaults,  "  screeching  like  an 
out-and-outer,"  or  stalking  about  Cloisterham  on 
particularly  dark  nights.  Rumour  has  seen  it  often, 
as  plain  as  plain,  nay,  much  plainer.  Rumour  has  heard 
it  wailing,  like  ten  thousand  horrors,  in  the  Cathedral. 
What,  you  don't  believe  it  ?  You  pucker  up  your  lips, 
and  wrinkle  your  nose,  and  shake  your  head,  making  a 
perfect  fright  of  yourself,  and  proclaim  the  whole  affair 
bosh  and  nonsense  !  Go  with  Rumour,  between  twelve 
and  two  o'clock  at  night,  through  the  churchyard,  when 
the  wind  is  rising,  and  mark,  if  you  don't  hear  it  then  ! 
But  as  nobody  does  go,  and  wouldn't  have  gone  for  the 
world,  not  even  you  !  Rumour  has  it  all  its  own  way, 
and  makes  the  most  of  it.  Bless  you,  it  grows  fat  and 
hale  upon  it.  It  even  whispers  in  everybody's  ear — 
for  it  has  ferreted  out  the  secret,  and  knows  all  about 
it — who  it  is  who  makes  these  nightly  rounds.  Nobody 
is  to  tell  anybody  else  on  any  account  whatever ;  which 
isn't  in  the  least  necessary,  for  Rumour  takes  precious 
good  care  to  perform  that  office  itself,  and  lets  every 
man,  woman  and  child  it  can  get  at,  into  its  confidence. 
Listen  !  Bend  your  head  !  Be  sure  you  don't  tell ! 
The  reverential  wife  ;  the  incomparable  looker  up  ;  the 
late  Mrs.  Sapsea ! 


THE    PLACE   IS    HAUNTED!  101 

There  now,  isn't  that  a  stunner !  Did  you  ever  ? 
No,  you  never  ;  of  course  you  do  ;  they  all  never,  one 
and  all.  Mrs.  Tope  even  reports  that  the  Revd. 
Septimus  Crisparkle,  Minor  Canon  in  Cloisterham,  on 
first  receiving  the  startling  information,  made  use  of 
the  same  unsesthetical  observation.  But  Mrs.  Tope's 
excitement  is  so  great,  that  she  can  hardly  be  looked 
upon  in  the  light  of  an  authentic  witness,  and  having 
been  losing  her  head,  as  she  has  pathetically  declared 
to  her  lord  and  master,  every  hour  of  the  last  fortnight, 
may  be  supposed  to  have  reached  the  culminating  point 
at  this  present,  and  to  have  really  lost  it. 

The  very  last  person  likely  !  A  woman,  who  had 
passed  through  life  as  a  shadow,  and  gone  off  the  stage 
through  utter  inability  to  act  even  that  inanimate  part 
any  longer,  could  certainly  not  be  expected  to  return 
of  her  own  free  will,  and  react  it,  for  her  own  delecta 
tion  !  A  woman,  even  in  life  so  faint  and  colourless, 
that  her  pupils  had  almost  utterly  ignored  her,  and, 
revelling  in  the  extravagances  prompted  by  their 
exuberant  youth,  had  been  wont  to  regard  her  faint 
remonstrances,  and  still  fainter  penalties,  as  of  hardly 
any  account  whatever !  A  woman,  whom  even  her 
bereaved  conjugal  partner  had  only  chosen  on  account 
of  her  extreme  humility  and  unparalleled  capacity  for 
looking  up,  without  making  even  a  step  towards  the 
contemplated  level !  And  this  woman,  this  nonentity, 
who  died,  apparently,  because  she  hadn't  strength  of 
mind  enough  to  live,  should  take  it  upon  herself  to 
raise  up  all  this  commotion,  and  to  intrude  her  indiff 
erent  charms  into  a  sphere  which  had  thrust  her  out 
for  ever,  and  to  which  she  had  no  manner  of  right  to 
return !  If  Rumour  hadn't  been  absolutely  certain 
of  the  fact,  it  would  have  seemed  an  impossibility. 

But  stay  !  There  are  reasons  for  not  being  able 
to  remain  quiet  in  the  grave,  made  out  and  fully 
established  long  ago  as  unanswerable  ones,  to  which 
even  a  departed  spirit  must  submit,  and  which  may  be 


102          A    GREAT    MYSTERY    SOLVED 

strong  enough  to  compel  it  to  return,  willing  or  unwill 
ing,  to  the  scenes  of  its  former  sins  or  sorrows  ;  either 
to  do  penance  on  earth,  for  crimes  committed  there,  or 
to  reveal  to  mortals  the  mystery  of  crimes  perpetrated 
on  itself,  which  they  must  avenge.  Is  it  one  of  these 
reasons,  or  is  it  any  other,  that  is  influencing  the  late 
Mrs.  Sapsea  ? 

Or  is  it  her  modesty,  perhaps,  which  is  the  cause  of 
her  restlessness  ?  Does  that  high-sounding  epitaph, 
attracting  so  much  of  public  attention,  appeal  to  her 
sense  of  her  deficiencies,  and,  disturbing  her  rest,  even 
in  the  tomb,  drive  her  forth  to  wander.  Or  is  the 
contradictory  spirit  of  her  sex  aroused,  even  at  this 
late  period,  prompting  her  because  she  had  enjoyed  so 
little  of  popular  attention  during  her  lifetime,  to  deter 
mine  to  possess  it  afterwards.  Who  can  decide  between 
these  conjectures  ?  Not  muddle-headed  Cloisterham  ! 
Not  many-tongued  Rumour,  who  proposes  a  new 
solution  every  day.  And  this  is  the  great  point  now 
under  consideration  ;  for  as  to  the  fact  of  her  reappear 
ance,  Rumour  is  considered,  on  all  hands,  to  have 
proved  that  beyond  a  doubt. 

Two  people  in  Cloisterham  at  this  time,  next  to  the 
ghost,  absorb  the  greater  part  of  popular  attention — 
the  stonemason,  Durdles,  and  his  stoner-in-chief,  the 
ragged  Deputy.  The  latter,  indeed,  is  so  in  vogue,  that 
he  might  have  eclipsed  even  Rumour,  were  it  not  that 
that  vague  individual,  finding  his  reputation  in  danger, 
cunningly  makes  a  league  with  his  rival,  and  unites  his 
powers  to  his,  till  they  become  almost  inseparable. 
A  jolly  time  of  it  has  Deputy  in  the  tap-room  of  various 
public-houses — "  none  of  your  low  sort,  either,"  but 
in  houses  of  undoubted  respectability,  where,  in  the 
times  that  are  past,  he  would  have  been  regaled  with 
nothing  better  than  the  taste  of  a  rope's  end — but 
where  now  he  is  sumptuously  accommodated,  gratis, 
with  pots  of  foaming  beer  or  porter,  glasses  hot  as  hot 
of  stiff  brandy  and  water,  or  any  other  fragrant  mixture 


THE   PLACE    IS    HAUNTED!  103 

handy  ;  the  while  he  draws  on  his  imagination,  inflamed 
with  drink,  for  the  benefit  of  a  trembling,  yet  delighted 
audience. 

No  matter  that  the  tale  repeated  undergoes  so 
many  and  such  astonishing  variations,  demoralised 
Cloisterham  always  has  ready  for  the  newest  account  the 
most  profound  belief,  and  no  supper  can  be  eaten 
without  a  plentiful  seasoning  of  this  piquant  sauce. 

As  for  Deputy,  he  has  fully  made  up  his  mind,  in 
the  event  of  such  a  dreadful  calamity  occurring  as  this 
ghost  being  laid,  to  raise  up  a  private  one  of  his  own 
as  speedily  as  possible,  completely  convinced  that  no 
other  investment  of  any  sort  whatever  could  yield  him 
such  big  and  safe  returns. 

Durdles  is,  perhaps,  though  in  a  different  way,  quite 
as  interesting  an  object  in  the  eyes  of  Cloisterham  as 
his  faithless  retainer.  He  is  a  hundred  times  more 
mysterious,  and  suffers,  by  reason  of  boundless  popu 
larity,  in  very  much  the  same  way  as  other  great  people 
whose  renown  capricious  Fame — deserved  or  un 
deserved — has  sounded  upon  her  mighty  trumpet. 

He  is  invariably  attended  by  an  admiring  crowd, 
who  gaze  rapturously  at  him  eating  his  dinner  upon  a 
tombstone  ;  tread  upon  his  heels  as  he  staggers  through 
Cloisterham  ;  yell  outside  his  dwelling,  the  while  he  is 
engaged  within  in  that  process  of  "  cleaning  himself," 
which  is  attended  by  no  visible  results ;  and  even 
dodge  his  footsteps  to  the  dreaded  vaults,  where  he 
retires  sometimes,  as  a  monarch  might  retire  when  the 
adulation  of  his  loyal  subjects  becomes  oppressive. 
Dozens  of  ragged  urchins  clamorously  make  applica 
tions  for  the  post  vacated  by  the  faithless  Deputy, 
and  express  their  willingness  to  stone  him  to  any 
amount  whatever  for  even  less  than  the  proverbial 
song. 

As  for  phlegmatic  Durdles,  he  accepts  this  sudden 
and  full-blown  popularity  with  the  same  indifference 
with  which  he  will  lose  it  when  it  goes  ;  and,  provided 


104          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

with  a  heavy  stick  to  keep  intruders  from  too  close 
contact  with  his  person,  swills  his  beer  and  bolts  his 
dinner  in  exactly  the  same  space  of  time  as  was  his 
wont,  allowing  all  curious  gazers  to  enjoy  this  sublime 
spectacle  with  a  perfect  nonchalance  all  his  own. 

In  one  respect,  however,  Deputy  is  much  better  off 
than  the  stonemason.  Thrifty  landladies  discover 
after  a  while  that  no  amount  of  beer,  although  freely 
accepted  and  partaken  of,  can  oil  the  mouth  of  this 
latter  worthy,  or  induce  him  to  go  beyond  his  original 
communication,  that  "  Durdles  knowed  what  he 
knowed  ;  and  Durdles  could  speak  if  he  would  ;  and  if 
folk  wouldn't  heed  folk,  they  hadn't  no  right  to  wonder 
if  folk  bothered  'em." 

This  remark,  though  possessing  all  the  high  qualities 
of  an  oracle,  or  a  Sphinx's  riddle,  and  admitting  of 
almost  any  construction  whatever,  loses  gradually, 
by  dint  of  repetition,  the  charm  of  novelty  ;  and  the 
landladies  relax  in  their  attentions,  contenting  them 
selves  with  rushing  to  the  door  whenever  he  passes 
with  his  numerous  retinue,  and  wondering  pensively, 
as  they  contemplate  him,  what  sort  of  a  charnel  house 
of  delicious  horrors  his  dusty  coat  and  waistcoat 

cover  up. 

*     *     *     * 

Whatever  curiosity  Mrs.  Tope  may  have  had  con 
cerning  the  doings  of  her  lodger,  Mr.  Datchery,  during 
his  long  absence  from  Cloisterham  (and  you  may  be 
sure  she  was  no  exception  to  her  sex,  or  to  either  sex, 
for  the  matter  of  that,  in  this  respect,  and  had  her 
full  share),  she  obtained  very  little  gratification 
for  it. 

The  single  buffer,  living  on  his  means,  re-appeared 
quite  unexpectedly,  and  without  any  previous  notice, 
in  his  lodgings,  cut  out  of  the  city  wall  under  the  arch 
way,  on  a  pouring  wet  afternoon  ;  protesting  that  he 
was  drenched  to  the  skin,  and  hungry  as  a  wolf  ;  and 
begging  Mrs.  Tope  to  get  him  a  bit  of  something  to 


THE    PLACE    IS    HAUNTED!  105 

peck  at,  the  while  he  dried  and  warmed  himself  at  her 
kitchen  fire. 

The  Verger's  wife  threw  out  various  little  lines,  with 
the  hooks  thereof  cunningly  concealed,  but  landed  no 
fish  worth  speaking  of. 

Mr.  Datchery  fell  to,  at  a  juicy  rump  steak,  with  a 
famous  appetite  ;  declaring,  to  Mrs.  Tope's  great  satis 
faction,  that  there  was  no  ale  in  the  world  comparable 
to  that  brewed  in  Cloisterham.  Partaking  thereof 
copiously,  before  the  blazing  kitchen  fire,  with  his  boots 
steaming  upon  the  hob,  and  a  fragrant  odour  from  some 
delicious  mixture  which  Mrs.  Tope  was  concocting  for 
him  and  which  he  was  to  drink  boiling  hot,  to  keep  him 
from  taking  cold  after  his  exposure,  tickling  his  nose, 
as  a  delightful  foretaste  of  what  it  meant  to  do  regarding 
his  palate,  this  simple-minded  individual  contrived 
somehow  in  the  most  natural  manner  in  the  world,  and 
without  asking  a  single  question — indeed,  with  rather 
the  air  of  one  who  was  good-natured  enough  to  listen 
to  her  prattle,  although  it  bored  him  somewhat ;  he 
yawned  once  or  twice  quite  naturally — to  obtain  from 
Mrs.  Tope's  lips,  only  too  glad  to  be  allowed  to  open 
themselves,  the  sum  and  substance  of  everything  which 
had  occurred  in  the  town  during  his  absence  ;  and  was 
put  upon  such  terms  with  the  ghost  and  its  usual 
whereabouts,  that  he  might  have  risked  going  out  blind 
fold,  and  coming  upon  its  haunts  as  sure  as  fate. 

<;  And  there  is  some  as  says,"  concluded  Mrs.  Tope, 
dropping  her  voice  mysteriously,  and  looking  out  of  the 
window  into  the  Precincts  to  see  if  anyone  was  passing, 
"  as  the  poor  soul  didn't  come  to  her  death  in  a  nat'rel 
way.  Yeller  she  were,  afore  she  died ;  I  remember 
that  well.  I  think  I  see  her  still,  a  walking  in  the  Close, 
along  with  him,"  jerking  her  thumb  in  the  direction  of 
the  High  Street,  "  and  I  says  to  Tope,  '  Tope,  ain't  she 
yeller  ?  '  I  says.  But,  Lor',  that  ain't  no  proof.  It 
may  be  slow  pison,  or  it  may  be  bile,  yeller  may.  The 
doctor  said  'twas  liver,  and  he  ought  to  know,  though 


io6          A    GREAT    MYSTERY    SOLVED 

he  ain't  much  looked  up  to,  ain't  Mr.  Green,  as  being 
what  you  may  call  fust-rate  ;  and  folks  did  say  as  he 
was  called  in  because  he's  cheap.  But  folks  will 
talk/'  said  the  Verger's  wife,  with  a  toss  of  her  head  in 
conscious  superiority  to  "  folks "  in  this  respect, 
"  and  what  with  one  bit  o'  scandal  and  what  with 
another — as  I've  a  said  to  Tope,  a  good  hundred  time, 
I  do  believe — my  head's  a  going." 

She  shook  it  again,  as  who  should  say,  "  As  it  is  my 
fate  to  lose  it,  the  sooner  the  better,"  and  looked 
enquiringly  at  her  lodger,  to  see  what  effect  this  last 
savoury  morsel  of  news  had  had  upon  him. 

But  he  was  nodding  in  his  seat  before  the  kitchen 
fire,  and  as  Mrs.  Tope's  voice  died  away,  she  distinctly 
heard  a  little  snore.  Perhaps  that  roused  him,  or 
perhaps  the  sudden  stop  in  her  conversation  did. 

He  started  up,  covered  a  tremendous  gape  with  his 
hand,  and  vowing  he  was  worn  out  bade  her  good 
night. 


CHAPTER    X 

THE  MAYOR  UNDER  A  CLOUD 

THINGS  had  come  to  such  a  pass  in  Cloisterham  that 
Mr.  Sapsea's  life  was  hardly  safe  in  the  old  city  ;  and 
he  was  virtually  compelled,  under  the  transparent 
pretence  of  ill-health,  to  take  his  constitutionals  in  the 
seclusion  of  his  own  apartments.  The  necessity  for 
immediate  measures  became  daily  more  urgent. 

Cloisterham  had  made  up  its  mind  at  last,  that  the 
reason  why  Mrs.  Sapsea  was  not  where  she  ought  to  be 
(viz.,  in  her  grave)  was,  that  she  had  been  murdered. 
And  who  had  murdered  Mrs.  Sapsea  ?  Why,  who  but 
her  husband ! 

There  was  no  earthly  reason  why  he  should  have  done 
so  ;  but  that  made  no  difference  to  Cloisterham.  He 
had  expected  a  great  deal  of  silent  adoration  and  looking 
up  to,  undoubtedly,  yet  had  never  been  otherwise  an 
unkind  husband  ;  but  Cloisterham  was  not  the  sort  of 
city  to  puzzle  its  head  with  unnecessary  details. 

Just  as  in  the  years  past,  this  city  of  a  bygone  time 
would  have  condemned  and  burnt  a  witch  (after  first 
torturing  her)  only  because  she  was  accused  of  being 
one  ;  so  they  condemned  and  would  have  executed  Mr. 
Sapsea  as  a  murderer,  for  the  sole  reason  that  he  was 
accused  of  being  one. 

Among  the  many  anxious  to  place  the  rope  round 
the  murderer's  neck  (and  it  is  astonishing  how  many 
competitors  there  always  are  for  this  odious  office, 
which  it  might  be  supposed  for  the  sake  of  common 
humanity  one  would  only  be  too  glad  to  leave  to  the 
hangman  and  birds  of  his  feather),  there  were  some 

107 


io8          A    GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

who  even  went  further  than  the  general  voice ;  some 
who  even  mooted  the  hypothesis  that  Mr.  Sapsea  had 
not  only  murdered  Mrs.  Sapsea  by  slow  degrees,  but 
Mr.  Edwin  Drood  by  rapid  ones  ;  that  he  was,  in  short, 
one  of  those  wholesale  murderers,  offshoots  of  the  devil, 
who  spring  up,  from  time  to  time,  to  show  us  of  what 
mankind  is  capable,  and  prove  that  if,  as  Wordsworth 
says,  "  trailing  clouds  of  glory,  we  do  come  from  God," 
we  most  certainly  must  have  passed  through  the  other 
place  also,  in  our  transit,  and  accumulated  no  small 
proportion  of  its  filth. 

Some  few  adherents  still  clung  fondly  to  him  who 
had  been  the  former  object  of  so  much  reverence  and 
admiration.  Among  the  warmest  of  these  was  Miss 
Twinkleton.  In  a  constant  state  of  flaming  indigna 
tion  against  the  public,  this  excellent  lady  found 
herself  far  less  able  than  usual  to  cope  with  the 
rebellious  spirits  of  the  young  ladies. 

So  it  had  come  to  pass  that  Mr.  Sapsea's  life  was 
hardly  safe  in  Cloisterham,  and  that  he  was  forced  to 
make  use  of  his  hall  and  passage  as  a  promenade. 
Stones,  thrown  by  invisible  hands,  had  stuck  him  pain 
fully  behind,  and  even  had  the  presumption  to  ascend 
to  the  magisterial  hat,  and  precipitate  that  priestly  and 
venerable  headpiece  into  the  gutter. 

Rotten  eggs  had  sullied  the  purity  of  his  nether 
garments,  and  had  laid  their  desecrating  touch  upon 
the  majesty  of  his  black,  and,  previously,  spotless  coat. 

A  drowned  kitten,  foul  to  touch  and  scent,  had 
alighted  upon  his  august  head  from  an  unknown  window 
in  the  High  Street. 

"  Where's  yer  wife  ?  "  became  the  popular  street 
cry  in  Cloisterham,  repeated  with  shouts  of  derisive 
laughter.  Placards  were  posted  on  the  door  of  the 
Mayor's  house,  full  of  vague  threatenings.  Anony 
mous  letters  were  addressed  to  his  Honour,  containing 
the  ominous  words  :  "  Who  poisoned  the  old  lady  ?  " 

At   last   private   counsel   and    advice,    and   public 


THE   MAYOR    UNDER   A   CLOUD        109 

execration  and  ignominy,  prevailed  with  his  Honour, 
and  he  made  his  famous  suggestion  that  the  vault  should 
be  entered,  the  coffin  opened,  and  the  body  examined, 
"  so  as  to  put  an  end  for  ever  (so  the  Mayor  worded  it) 
to  all  these  false  and  lying  calumniations,  concocted 
by  his  enemies  ;  who,  jealous  of  his  high  renown,  had 
sought  by  such  means,  base  enough  for  the  Evil  One, 
to  undermine  and  ruin  him.  But  (so  the  Mayor  con 
cluded)  their  vile  machinations  would  perish  and  come 
to  shame,  and  they  along  with  them  ;  and  his  tarnished 
honour  would  shine  more  brightly  than  ever  for  the 
ordeal  to  which  it  had  been  subjected." 

On  hearing  of  this  decree,  the  few  constant  admirers 
of  his  Honour,  who  had  taken  to  skulking  in  by-ways, 
and  hardly  dared  show  themselves  in  the  light  of  day, 
raised  their  voices  again  in  a  shout  of  triumph. 

They  had  always  said  so  ;  had  always  known  that 
no  man  alive,  except  his  Honour,  was  equal  to  the 
occasion.  His  disinterestedness  ;  his  complete  putting 
aside  of  his  private  feelings  for  the  public  benefit  ;  his 
sound  common  sense  in  suggesting  the  only  thing 
which  could  silence  for  ever  the  voice  of  the  backbiter  ; 
his  triumphant  heading  of  that  verb  which  as  yet  had 
been  so  imperfectly  conjugated  in  Cloisterham,  to  wit : 
Thou  must  put  it  down  ;  he,  she,  or  it,  must  put  it 
down  ;  we,  you,  or  they,  must  put  it  down  ;  with  : 
I  will  put  it  down — taking  such  certain  steps  for  doing 
it — they  could  hardly  sufficiently  extol. 

Therefore,  in  pursuance  of  his  suggestion,  the  Mayor 
handed  over  to  Mr.  Crisparkle,  as  ambassador  of  his 
Reverence  the  Dean,  the  heavy  key  opening  the  door 
of  Mrs.  Sapsea's  monument,  with  full  authority  to 
make  such  use  of  it  as  he  thought  proper  ;  and  Durdles 
was  communicated  with ;  and  one  or  two  other  men 
were  bidden  to  meet  at  a  certain  place,  quietly,  to 
arouse  no  sensation,  and  for  a  dread  and  solemn 
purpose. 

On  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day,  Mr.  Crisparkle, 


no          A   GREAT    MYSTERY    SOLVED 

pale  and  agitated,  hurried  up  to  the  Mayor's  house, 
and  requested  an  immediate  audience  of  that  dignitary. 
He  found  his  Honour  complacently  awaiting  his  arrival, 
with  a  bottle  of  port  and  a  couple  of  glasses  before  him 
(one  of  which  had  been  made  use  of),  after  an  early 
dinner,  and  already  contemplating  with  "  the  eye  of  his 
mind,  the  utter  confusion  with  which  his  enemies  would 
be  scattered  and  put  to  flight  before  the  strong  power 
of  the  truth."  But  Mr.  Sapsea's  ,lips,  slightly  parted 
still  with  this  sentiment,  opened  themselves  yet  wider, 
though  speechless,  when  Mr.  Crisparkle  communicated 
to  him  the  awful  news  of  which  he  was  the  bearer.  His 
jaws  fell  aghast ;  his  plump  cheeks,  glowing  from  rosy 
wine,  grew  sunk  and  haggard.  Wine,  which  cheers 
the  heart  of  man,  was  powerless  to  perform  that  good 
office  any  more  for  Mr.  Sapsea,  and  as  for  oil  to  make  his 
face  to  shine,  that  was  rendered  superfluous  by  the 
sweat  of  anguish  which  lubricated  his  lofty  brow. 
Helpless,  paralytic,  trembling,  he  glared  back  speech 
lessly  at  the  Minor  Canon,  a  miserable,  idiotic  old  man. 
In  the  moment  when  real  strength  of  mind  and  energy 
were  most  needed,  the  insufferable  vanity  and  pom 
posity  which  had  struggled  (pretty  successfully  too,  as 
far  as  Cloisterham  was  concerned)  to  supply  their  vacant 
places,  broke  down  utterly,  and  left  him  to  bear  alone 
his  ignominy  and  his  shame. 

For  the  Minor  Canon  had  broken  to  him,  gently  and 
considerately,  that  Durdles'  dread  assertion  had  been 
proved  true  beyond  a  doubt ;  that  the  opened  coffin 
of  Mrs.  Sapsea  had  disclosed  no  dead  form  mouldering 
away,  but  was  empty,  with  the  exception  of  a  little  case 
containing  a  ring — a  lady's  ring,  with  a  rose  of  dia 
monds  and  rubies,  which  possibly  Mr.  Sapsea  would 
be  able  to  identify  as  the  property  of  the  deceased. 
That  a  great  crime  had  been  committed  ;  the  sanctity 
of  the  grave  denied ;  and  the  dead  body  forcibly 
removed  from  its  resting-place.  That,  what  had  been 
the  motive,  remained,  of  course,  at  present,  shrouded 


THE    MAYOR    UNDER   A    CLOUD        in 

in  profoundest  mystery,  but  that  the  course  to  be 
pursued  was  plain  and  clear,  and  would  no  doubt  accord 
with  Mr.  Sapsea's  wishes.  The  matter  must  be  placed 
at  once,  without  delay,  in  the  hands  of  the  authorities, 
and  all  the  machinery  of  the  law  put  in  motion  to  dis 
cover  and  hunt  down  the  perpetrator  of  the  crime. 

So  far,  Mr.  Crisparkle,  warm  and  eager,  yet  tender  too 
towards  the  wretched  old  man,  so  terribly  affected  by 
the  disclosure  ;  but  there  was  no  getting  anything  out 
of  Mr.  Sapsea.  He  did  not  attempt  to  identify  the 
ring  or  not  to  identify  it.  He  only  whined  like  a  child 
for  his  housekeeper,  and  when  she  came,  frightened  to 
see  her  pompous  master  brought  so  low,  and  full  of 
curiosity  to  hear  what  had  happened,  he  said  he 
"  must  go  to  bed,  must  go  to  bed,"  and  after  she  had 
brought  him  there,  putting  him  to  bed  as  if  he  were  a 
baby,  he  drew  the  counterpane  over  his  head  like  a 
frightened  child,  as  if  he  would  shut  out  the  dreadful, 
dreadful  news,  and  the  cruel,  cruel  world,  mocking  him 
in  his  abasement. 


CHAPTER    XI 

TWO     BIRDS     OF     NIGHT 

MR.  JOHN  JASPER,  sitting  watching  behind  the  window 
curtain  of  the  room  he  had  hired  in  Staple  Inn,  and 
Mr.  Grewgious,  watching  him  with  intently  screwed-up 
eyes  from  behind  his  window  curtain  opposite,  must 
both  have  spent  a  dreary  and  unprofitable  afternoon. 

"  Umph  !  "  said  Mr.  Grewgious  at  last,  yawning,  and 
releasing  his  weary  eyes  from  the  strain  put  upon  them, 
"  if  he  has  not  been  more  fortunate  than  I,  then  there  is 
no  denying  that  we  have  both  been  wasting  our  time." 

For  a  leaden  sky  hung  so  threateningly  and  uncom 
promisingly  over  Staple  Inn  and  the  whole  wide  city, 
and  wore  a  frown  so  sullen  and  sombre,  so  hopeless  and 
dreary,  that  only  such  as  had  no  choice  dared  to  brave 
it,  and  venture  forth. 

Many  of  the  less  frequented  streets  were  nearly  empty, 
and  Staple  Inn  in  particular  was  as  empty  as  the 
desert  of  Sahara  ;  while  the  angry  wind,  raging  through 
it  in  sudden  and  unexpected  gusts,  brought  clouds 
of  dust,  almost  sufficient  to  have  swamped  a  small 
caravan,  thereby  increasing  its  resemblance  to  that 
world-renowned  and  often-quoted  wilderness. 

"  There's  nobody  been  going  either  in  or  out/' 
soliloquized  Mr.  Grewgious  further,  solitary  in  his 
office  (he  had  sent  his  clerk  away  for  two  or  three  days' 
change  of  air,  "  for  the  poor,  industrious  fellow  grew 
quite  haggard  and  down  in  the  mouth,  and  '  all  work 
and  no  play — '  you  know  "),  "  and  my  pretty  Rosa 
is  safe,  thank  God !  in  Cloisterham.  Neither  Mr. 
Neville  nor  his  handsome  sister  has  put  a  nose  outside 

112 


TWO    BIRDS    OF    NIGHT  113 

the  door  this  whole  afternoon,  and  I  should  wonder  if 
they  did,  for  the  wind  is  sharp  enough  and  keen  enough 
to  bite  off  that  useful  and  ornamental  member ;  and 
really,  as  regards  the  sister's,  it  would  be  a  loss  to 
society." 

Here  Mr.  Grewgious  gave  his  own  nose  a  thoughtful 
tug,  perhaps  from  association  of  ideas,  perhaps  as  a  sort 
of  congratulation  to  it  that  it  was  not  under  the  un 
pleasant  necessity  of  exposing  itself  to  the  chance  of 
such  a  dismal  fate  ;  whereupon,  as  the  injured  member 
resented  this  treatment  with  a  violent  sneeze,  he 
punished  it  severely  with  a  red  and  yellow  pocket- 
handkerchief,  leaving  it  to  glare  out  irate  and  fiery 
from  his  otherwise  unmoved  and  unsympathetic 
countenance,  as  he  resumed  his  meditations 

"  Mr.  Tartar  is  out  of  town,  somewhere — as  I  could 
have  told  my  respected  friend  opposite,  and  saved  him 
the  trouble  of  finding  out  for  himself,  if  it  were  not  the 
chief  employment  of  my  life  to  distract  and  puzzle  him 
— gone,  as  I  remember  now,  down  to  Cloisterham  to 
visit  his  old  friend,  and  pay  his  respects  to  the  '  charm 
ing  old  lady '  his  mother.  There  is  no  charming 
young  lady  in  the  case,  I  suppose  ?  Oh  dear,  no  ! 
Certainly  not ! 

"  Bless  me  !  how  red  my  nose  is,  and  how  frightfully 
my  little  looking-glass  reflects  and  contorts  that  would- 
be  look  of  archness  in  my  face.  It  is  blushing,  no  doubt, 
honest  member  !  at  its  master  presuming  to  be  satirical, 
he  being,  of  all  men,  the  most  eminently  unfitted  to 
maintain  that  character.  Hiram  Grewgious  !  Hiram 
Grewgious  !  keep  strictly  within  those  narrow  limits  in 
which  you  were  placed  by  an  all-wise  Providence,  or 
you  will  come  to  grief.  What  a  mercy  there  is  no  one 
here  to  see  or  hear  me  ! 

"  Cunning  youth  !  But  he  can't  hoodwink  me,  and 
I — presumptuous  I — am  the  last  man  in  the  world  who 
ought  to  blame  him.  But  if  his  ail-too  evident  admir 
ation  should  worry  and  annoy  my  sweet  ward,  he  will 
I 


U4          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

find  he  has  to  deal  with  a  tougher  customer  in  me  than 
he  thinks  for.  And  yet,  if  she  could  learn  to  love  him — 
he  is  not  worthy  of  such  a  prize,  but  no  mail  is,  and  he 
seems  to  be  a  brave  and  noble  young  fellow,  far  better 
suited  to  her  than  the  poor  boy  so  basely  murdered — 
why  then — then  I  could  be  content  to  die  and  to  be 
buried — cheaply,  and  without  any  unnecessary  ex 
penditure  of  money,  which  might  afterwards  be  useful 
to  them — leaving  behind  to  the  child  whom  I  look  upon 
almost  as  my  own  the  little  property  which  I  have 
amassed,  and  my  love  and  blessing.  Ho,  old  skulker  ! 
up  to  a  new  game,  are  you  ?  Bowled  out  of  the  other, 
hey  ?  " 

This  last  remark,  though  addressed  to  Mr.  John 
Jasper  over  the  way,  was  neither  heard,  nor  intended  to 
be  heard,  by  that  gentleman,  who,  with  scowling  face  to 
match  the  scowling  sky,  was,  at  the  moment  when  Mr. 
Grewgious  caught  sight  of  him,  issuing  from  the  door 
way  opposite. 

"  Out  for  a  solitary  walk  in  this  weather  ?  "  con 
tinued  the  old  man,  watching  him  till  he  disappeared 
through  the  gateway,  "  that  has  a  bad  look,  bird  of 
night !  I'm  not  rancorous,  as  a  rule,  I  hope,  but  I 
wish,  I  do  wish  that  the  wind  would  bite  off  your  nose  ; 
or,  better  still,  your  head  ;  or,  better  still,  take  you  up 
bodily,  and  waft  you  into  the  river,  or  any  other  place 
where  the  world's  eyes  would  be  rid  of  the  sight  of  you, 
crawling  and  stinging  reptile  that  you  are  !  There ! 
I'm  calling  names  ;  I,  quiet  Hiram  Grewgious  !  but  I 
do  wish  that  something  would  happen  to  enable  me  to 
wash  my  hands  of  this  dirty  work,  which  I  loathe  and 
abhor,  and  which  only  the  strongest  necessity " 

Breaking  off  abruptly,  he  sighed  and  fell  into  a  muse, 
which  lasted  until  he  was  aroused  by  the  entrance  of  a 
visitor,  whom  the  sharp  wind  and  the  lowering  sky 
had  not  been  able  to  keep  back,  and  who  came  in  with  a 
quick  eager  step,  not  even  waiting  for  an  answer  to  his 
announcing  rap. 


TWO    BIRDS   OF   NIGHT  115 

A  man  of  about  forty  or  thereabouts,  with  dark  hair 
and  black  eyebrows  ;  out  of  whose  flashing  eyes  darted 
exultant  light,  which  would  show  through  and  break 
up  the  studied  gravity  of  his  face. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  "  for  coming 
in  thus  unceremoniously  upon  you,  but  I  am  the  bearer 
of  good  news  !  glorious  news  !  and  that  must  be  my 
excuse.  We  have  got  our  hand  upon  him  at  last,  and 
hold  him  tight.  He  is  run  to  earth,  I  tell  you.  Run 
to  earth !  " 

And  leaving  Mr.  Grewgious  to  execute  a  most  re 
markable  and  ingenious  dance  of  his  own  invention — 
something  in  the  dancing-dervish  style,  though  infinitely 
more  complicated,  and  fraught  with  danger  to  every 
article  of  furniture  in  the  room — and  his  astonished 
visitor,  alias  Mr.  Datchery,  alias  "  T'other  Three  and 
Sixpence,"  to  look  on  amazed,  let  us  array  ourselves  in 
our  thickest  overcoat  and  warmest  comforter,  and, 
umbrella  not  forgotten,  for  heavy  drops  are  beginning 
to  fall,  sally  forth  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  Mr.  John 
Jasper. 

The  threatened  rain  had  come  at  last  First  fell 
single,  heavy  drops  ;  then  many  in  a  company  ;  then 
a  flood.  Undecided  as  it  had  been  all  the  afternoon, 
the  rain  now  set  about  its  work  in  good  earnest,  and 
flooded  the  streets  and  filled  the  gutters  in  quite  a 
business  way. 

It  did  not  spare  the  passers-by,  either,  but  came 
down  upon  them  to  such  extent,  that  even  quite  good- 
natured  people,  jostling  together,  and  receiving  the 
splashings  of  the  others'  umbrellas  in  their  boots,  gave 
vent  to  angry  and  impatient  exclamations.  It  wasn't 
the  sort  of  weather  to  feel  cheerful  or  pleasant  by,  and 
it  was  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  John  Jasper's  face  was 
neither  cheerful  nor  pleasant  to  look  upon.  He  had 
neglected  to  provide  himself  with  an  umbrella,  and  the 
merciless  rain,  taking  no  heed  of  this  fact,  poured  down 
upon  his  streaming  hat  quite  as  remorselessly  as  on  the 


n6          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

umbrellas  jostling  him.  He  had  on  no  great  coat,  and 
the  rain,  easily  penetrating  the  thin  material  of  his 
summer  garments,  must  have  wetted  him  to  the  skin. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  fact,  pleasant  to  none,  which 
forced,  from  time  to  time,  a  muttered  oath  from  between 
his  clenched  teeth — awful  and  terrible  to  hear.  Per 
haps,  on  this  account,  his  face  wore  so  livid  and  fearful 
an  expression  that  even  those  who  passed  him  in  the 
driving  rain  gave  themselves  extra  trouble  to  go  a  step 
or  two  out  of  his  way. 

Unshorn,  unkempt,  unwashed,  with  shrunken  cheeks 
and  burning  eyes,  in  which  unholy  fire  gleamed,  John 
Jasper,  late  choir-master  of  Cloisterham,  at  this  present 
engaged  in  business  which  he  kept  secret,  or  in  none  at 
all,  would  not  have  been  an  agreeable  object  of  con 
templation  even  in  the  sunshine,  and  was  still  less  so 
under  these  unfavourable  circumstances. 

Time  had  dealt  hardly  with  John  Jasper,  and  aged 
him  prematurely.  Consumed,  as  he  was,  and  devoured 
by  the  passion  always  raging  at  his  heart,  one  might 
have  added  twenty  years  to  his  real  age,  and  feared  no 
contradiction. 

He  had  turned  into  one  of  the  narrow  streets  behind 
Holborn,  when  a  lean  and  shrivelled  hand,  belonging  to 
an  old  woman,  who  had  crept  into  the  shelter  of  a 
doorway,  and  was  crouching  there  for  protection  against 
the  weather,  seized  a  lappet  of  his  coat  as  he  strode  by. 

"  Lor',  deary,  don't  be  in  such  a  mortal  hurry ; 
don't  'ee  now.  I've  been  a  lookin'  for  ye,  but  couldn't 
find  ye  nowheres.  I  tracked  ye  to  hereabouts,  and  then 
I  lost  sight  of  ye.  I  was  took  with  my  cough,  and  that 
shakes  me  so  bad  that  I  loses  sense  and  feelin',  deary. 
And  when  I  come  to  myself  you  was  wanished,  you  was. 
How  bad  you  look,  lovey.  A'most  at  death's  door/' 

And  Mother  Coombs  coughed  and  spit,  but  still  kept 
tight  hold  of  the  lappet  she  had  seized. 

"  Let  go  of  my  coat,  woman  !  What  have  I  to  do 
with  you  ?  Let  go,  or  I  shall  kill  you." 


TWO    BIRDS   OF    NIGHT  117 

"  No,  ye  won't,  deary.  Not  yet  awhile,"  croaked 
the  old  woman,  almost  stifled  with  the  violence  of  her 
cough,  but  clinging  to  him  in  spite  of  it.  **  There's 
other  folks  to  kill  afore  me,  and  no  time  to  lose  in  doing 
of  it.  I  reckon  I'll  give  ye  the  slip  after  all.  What, 
strike  a  poor  old  soul,  as  come  out  in  weather  not  fit 
for  dogs,  to  save  ye,  deary  ?  "  For  he  had  raised  his 
clenched  fist  threateningly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Tell  me  what  you  mean  or 
I  will  strangle  you,  she-devil  that  you  are  !  " 

"  Now  I  knows  my  poppet !  Now  I  recognises  my 
pretty  pet !  I  began  to  think  it  weren't  you,  after  all. 
You've  grown  so  lovely  since  I  see  you  last ;  and  if  the 
pretty  ladies  are  not  all  in  love  with  your  handsome 
mug,  it  only  shows  their  want  of  taste,  deary.  Strangle 
me  ?  I  know  you  could  !  You've  got  the  knack  of  it, 
you  see,  and  wouldn't  be  tryin'  yer  hand  at  it  for  the 
first  time,  my  duck  !  Help  us  !  Save  us  !  Murder  ! 
Thieves !  " 

For,  in  his  fury,  he  had  grasped  her  skinny  throat 
between  his  cruel  hands,  and  was  queezing  the  breath 
out  of  her. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  now  what  you  mean,  villainous 
hag  ?  Or  shall  I  kick  you  to  the  devil  on  the  spot  ?  " 

"  No,  lovey,"  gasped  the  woman,  who  had  scrambled 
to  her  feet  during  the  short  struggle,  and  who  now 
stood  panting  and  glaring  at  him  with  eyes  full  of 
hatred  and  malice,  "  not  there,  'cause  there  you'd  be  a 
folio  win'  me  quick  and  certain,  and  I'd  rayther  see  the 
last  on  ye  here." 

"  Why  do  you  enrage  me  so,  then  ?  Don't  you  see 
that  I'm  wet  through  and  shaking  with  cold  ?  Don't 
you  see  that  I  am  mad  ?  " 

"  That  conwiction  have  been  a  coming  into  my  brain," 
answered  the  woman,  composedly,  "  since  I  heerd  ye, 
deary  ;  for  ye  must  be  mad  to  behave  so  to  me — to  me, 
who  with  a  single  word,  could  get  ye  hung." 

And,  as  again  with  a  bitter  oath,  he  turned  upon  her, 


n8          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

menacingly,  she  was  in  the  middle  of  the  street  In  a 
moment,  in  spite  of  her  age  and  decrepitude  ;  ready,  if 
he  touched  her,  to  shriek  for  help. 

"  Accursed  babbler  !  what  have  you  got  to  say  to 
me  ?  Scum  of  hell !  tell  me  what  it  is,  or  I  swear  I'll 
shed  your  blood,  even  if  it  cost  me  my  own.  Speak, 
and  you  shall  have  a  piece  of  gold  for  every  word." 

"  There  now,  that's  my  poppet !  "  said  the  woman, 
drawing  nearer  again,  and  leering  well  satisfied  into  his 
face.  "  Now  ye  talks  reason  ;  and  I'll  not  only  listen 
to  ye,  but  I'll  tell  ye  what  ye  wants  to  know.  'Tis  too 
far  to  the  old  court,  deary,  in  this  drenching  rain  ;  let 
us  go  into  some  tavern  where  we  can  warm  ourselves 
and  dry  ourselves,  and  with  a  glass  of  summut  hot,  thaw 
the  life-blood  freezing  in  our  veins.  Is  them  your 
views,  ducky  ?  " 

"  As  you  will,"  he  answered,  sullenly,  following  her 
into  a  low  public-house  ;  and  a  few  minutes  afterwards 
they  were  seated  together  in  a  room,  where  a  fire  was 
burning,  with  a  couple  of  glasses  and  a  bottle  of  some 
thing  upon  a  table  before  them,  from  which  the  woman 
was  quaffing  with  evident  satisfaction. 

"  Now  this  is  what  I  calls  comfort,"  began  the  woman. 
"  It's  gin,  and  good  stuff,  too,  deary.  Take  a  glass,  and 
it'll  warm  ye  and  cheer  ye  up,  for  ye're  drefful  low  now  ; 
awful  in  the  dumps,  lovey.  A  pipe  would  do  it  better, 
but  I  haven't  got  a  bit  of  opium,  more's  the  pity  ! 
Customers  is  rare,  since  ye  went,  deary,  and  if  ye  could 
ha'  known  how  I've  fretted  and  worried  after  ye,  ye 
wouldn't  have  had  the  heart  to  stay  away  so  long  ;  and 
ye  wouldn't  have  looked  like  that  neither,  if  ye'd  smoke 
a  pipe,  mixed  by  the  only  soul  in  the  great  city  who 
knows  how  to  do  it.  I  might  have  starved  but  for  a 

piece  of  good  luck  which  come  to  me  quite " 

"  Quite  what  ?  "  he  enquired,  mechanically,  as  she 
hesitated. 

He  had  sunk  into  a  chair  by  the  fire,  which  was 
drawing  out  great  clouds  of  steam  from  his  drenched 


TWO    BIRDS   OF   NIGHT  119 

clothes  ;  and  either  this  or  the  warmth  of  the  close, 
unaired  room,  misty  still  with  the  smoke  from  the  pipes 
of  its  former  occupants,  seemed  to  have  almost  stupefied 
him. 

There  was  no  trace  now  of  the  fury  which  had  raged 
within  him  in  the  street.  In  a  sort  of  lethargy, 
with  his  heavy  head  sunk  low  upon  his  breast,  he 
appeared  scarcely  to  heed,  or  to  listen  to  what  she  was 
saying. 

"  Quite  unexpected,  deary;  like  manner  in  the 
wilderness.  How  pleasant  it  is  here,  ain't  it  ?  We're 
good  friends  now,  ain't  we,  deary  ?  You  was  riled, 
and  so  was  I ;  for  the  wet,  and  the  rain,  and  the  cold, 
and  the  hunger  is  riling,  deary,  and  we  ain't  the  fust 
neither  that  it's  angered.  But  I  knows  my  poppet ! 
Bless  ye,  I  wasn't  born  yesterday  !  And  now,  lovey, 
if  ye's  warmed  and  cheered,  let's  see  the  money  ye 
spoke  of.'* 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  saying  you  could  get  me 
hung,  woman  ?  "  he  said  at  last,  seemingly  remembering 
that  he  had  come  there  to  hear  that,  and  making  a 
violent  effort  to  overcome  the  stupor  which  was  laming 
thought  and  sense. 

"  Softly,  softly  !  lovey.  Not  so  loud,  not  so  quick  ! 
There's  ears  outside  as  can  hear,  and  tongues  as  can 
repeat !  Ye  always  was  too  quick  for  me,  but  I  goes 
slow  and  sure.  I'm  old  enough  to  be  yer  granny,  and 
I'm  sure  as  I  loves  ye  as  sich,  and  I  says :  slow  and 
sure.  First  let  us  see  the  money,  ducky." 

"  Curse  you !  Haven't  I  told  you  that  I  mean  to 
pay  you  ?  Do  you  doubt  my  word  ?  " 

"  Lord  love  and  save  us  ;  no,  my  poppet !  You's 
a  man  of  your  word,  you  is.  A  man  of  word  and  deed. 
I  knows  that.  But  the  sight  of  the  money  stimmilates 
me,  deary,  gives  me  woice  and  langvidge.  I'm  a  pore 
old  soul,  I  am,  and  needs  stimmilants.  I  can't  do 
without  'em.  Just  let's  see  the  gold." 

Drawing  out  a  little  bag  of  money,  he  laid  it  on  the 


120          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

table  before  her,  while  she,  with  greedy,  staring  eyes, 
and  clutching  hands,  grinned  delightedly. 

"  Count  it  out,  my  duck  !  Let  me  see  the  bright 
colour  of  it,  and  the  sparkle.  It  ain't  so  good  as  opium, 
but  it's  the  next  best  thing,  for  it  will  buy  it,  lovey. 
Ye  promised  me  a  bit  of  gold  for  every  word,  but  I 
won't  be  so  hard  upon  ye  as  that.  /  ain't  miserly. 
I'll  give  ye  a  lot  of  words  into  the  bargain  and  never 
reckon  'em  up  with  ye.  Count  it,  lovey,  and  don't  ye 
be  afeared  of  my  takin'  it  before  ye're  satisfied.  I've 
got  summut  to  tell  ye,  remember  that !  I'll  save  ye 
from  a  tighter  squeeze  round  yer  throat  than  you  giv' 
me,  or  than  ever  yer  true  love  give  you,  I  will." 

But  as  he  still  remained  silent  and  immovable,  she 
went  on  again. 

"  Tell  us,  lovey,  is  ye  married  ?  Does  yer  true  love 
love  ye  still,  or  have  ye  got  another  ?  " 

"  What  true  love  ?  " 

"  Lor',  my  memory's  goin',  deary  ;  but  I  can  make 
a  shift  to  say,  I  reckon,  'cause  you  said  it  so  often.  Let 
me  see  :  Polly,  Jenny,  Rosy.  Yes,  I  know  now.  Of 
course,  I  do,  I  ought  to.  Pretty  Rosy  !  Hangel  Rosy  ! 
Henchanting  Rosy !  " 

"  Woman,  if  you  continue  to  torture  me,"  he  cried, 
with  a  sudden  return  of  fury  and  with  gnashing  teeth, 
"  if  you  do  not  speak  soon  and  say  what  you  mean,  I 
swear  to  you  by  the  God  above  us,  if  there  is  one  ;  by 
the  devil  in  our  hearts  and  all  around  us,  that  I  will 
tear  the  heart  out  of  your  living  body,  and  murder  you 
where  you  sit." 

"  O,  my  ducky,  how  bad  you  needs  the  pipe  !  How 
you've  been  a  wasting  and  a  wearing  yourself  out  for 
want  of  it !  What  a  mortal  pity  as  we  ain't  at  'ome 
where  I  could  give  ye  one  !  Will  ye  count  it  out,  or  will 
ye  not,  deary  ?  "  (coaxingly). 

Even  in  the  midst  of  his  mortal  agony,  and  fierce 
eagerness  to  hear  what  she  had  to  say,  he  had  sense 
enough  to  feel  that  he  must  humour  her ;  and  with 


TWO    BIRDS   OF   NIGHT  121 

trembling  hands  he  counted  out  the  money,  and  set  it 
before  her ;  two  little  heaps  of  gold. 

"  Six  big  ones  and  eight  little  ones,"  counted  the 
woman  after  him.  "  Ten  big  ones  in  all.  It  ain't 
much,  deary." 

"  It  is  all  I  have." 

"  All  you  have  !  and  the  rich  nevvy  dead  !  The 
nevvy  who  left  you  his  fortun',  and  his  sweetheart  into 
the  bargain.  O,  fie  upon  ye  !  " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  my  nephew  ?  " 

"Don't  touch  me,  deary.  I'll  screech  if  ye  do,  and 
tell  'em  outside  where  the  nevvy  is,  and  who  put  him 
there.  There's  people  seekin'  of  him  'igh  and  low,  and 
if  ye  comes  a  hinch  nearer  to  me,  I'll  tell  it  to  the  whole 

world.    O,  but  ye're  a  clever  one,  deary  !     A  d d 

clever  one  !  " 

"  Have  you  issued  from  hell  to  bind  me  to  the  rack  ? 
Did  Satan  beget  you  ?  " 

"If  he  did,  you're  my  brother,  lovey,  sure  and 
certain,  and  ought  to  be  my  friend.  But  I'll  trust  ye, 
deary.  /  ain't  niggardly.  Look  you  here !  Don't 
stay  another  day  in  London,  deary,  but  pack  up  all 
ye've  got,  and  make  off  with  yerself,  across  the  seas  to 
Ameriky,  to  cut  off  the  scent,  for — the  hounds  is  after 
ye.  They're  strong  upon  ye,  deary,  and  they've  got 
noses  so  trained  and  fine  that  I  bet  ten  to  one  they've 
found  out  the  secret  of  the  grave — the  secret  buried  so 
deep.  Ha,  ha  !  what  a  precious  cute  one,  you  is  !  " 

He  was  so  awful  to  look  upon  just  then,  with  livid 
face,  and  grinding  teeth,  with  foaming  lips,  and  veins 
swollen  to  bursting  on  his  burning  forehead,  that  even 
the  hardened  woman,  watching  his  every  movement, 
shuddered  as  she  sneered — 

"  What  a  pity  it  is,  that  yer  true  love,  yer  pretty 
Rosy,  can't  see  you  now,  my  poppet ;  she  would  be 
a'most  ready  to  die  of  love  for  ye,  I'm  thinking." 

"  Woman,  have  pity  on  me,  if  you  ever  felt  pity ; 
and  tell  me  what  you  know — or  think  you  know — 


122          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

and  how  you  know  it  ?  and  I  will  treble — quadruple, 
the  sum  lying  there." 

"There!  Now  ye  speaks  reason,"  retorted  his 
companion,  "  and  I  can  talk  to  ye  like  a  reasonable 
being,  and  not  like  a  lunatic.  I  tell  ye,  a  fellow  come 
to  me  to  ferret  and  to  find  out  what  I  knew,  and  I 
see  from  what  he  say,  that  they  was  a  closing  round 
ye  on  every  side.  But  I  kep'  my  own  counsel,  and 
never  told  him  what  I'd  heerd  ye  say." 

"You  lie,  miserable  hypocrite!  you  told  him  all. 
Not  that  it  matters  much.  What  was  it,  after  all  ? 
Foolish  visions  !  foolish  dreams  !  " 

"  But  two  and  two  make  four,"  remarked  the 
woman,  cunningly,  "  and  I  reckon  them  spies  knows 
how  to  put  two  and  two  together.  And  when  they  do, 
it  makes  a  whole,  not  pleasant  to  think  of,  deary." 

"  If  you  have  betrayed  me,  miserable  wretch !  be 
sure  of  this,  that  whatever  happens  to  me,  you  shall 
go  to  hell  first." 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  she  said,  unconcernedly,  "  that 
I  should  put  myself  in  your  power,  if  I  had  betrayed 
ye  ?  That  I  should  warn  ye,  if  I  wished  ye  to 
be  took?  I'm  old  enough  to  be  yer  granny,  as  I 
said  afore,  and  I  loves  ye  as  a  mother.  Take  my 
advice  and  pack  up  yer  things,  and  take  them  with 
ye  to  Ameriky ;  or,  better  still,  leave  them  here  for 
me  to  take  care  of  for  ye.  And  ye  11  send  me  the  money 
ye  spoke  of,  won't  ye  ?  Ye'll  not  forget  ?  Give  me 
yer  watch,  and  the  ring  on  yer  finger  as  a  pledge,  and 
ye  shall  have  them  back  agin  when  I  gits  the  money." 

"  Have  I  not  said  that  I  would  send  it !  " 

"  But  ye  might  forgit,  deary.  And  if  ye  did,  I 
might  be  driv'  to  do  something  which  would  vex  ye 
and  me  too,  lovey.  The  worry  might  drive  me  to  it." 

Tearing  off  his  watch  and  ring,  he  flung  them  upon 
the  table  before  her,  with  a  fierce  oath,  which  seemed 
to  blast  his  lips  as  it  passed  them,  for  it  left  them 
deadly  white  ;  and  without  another  word,  quitted 


TWO    BIRDS   OF   NIGHT  133 

the  room  and  the  house.  The  rain  was  still  pouring, 
splashing,  dripping  down,  but  he  neither  felt  nor 
heeded  it.  Baffled,  daunted,  all  his  hopes  vanish 
ing  ;  all  his  evil  deeds  done  in  vain,  and  rising 
up  to  overwhelm  him ;  remorseless  still ;  full  of 
hatred  ;  full  of  raging  fire,  fed  from  hell  itself,  and  which 
no  rain,  no  nor  ocean  either,  could  subdue  or  quench, 
he  paced  the  darkening  and  deserted  streets  till  mid 
night,  and  not  until  all  the  clocks  in  the  city  had  rung 
out  the  twelfth  hour,  did  he  turn  his  steps  homeward. 
But  not  to  find  sleep  or  rest.  Like  a  caged  panther, 
tameless,  cruel,  furious,  he  beat  himself  against  the 
bars  which  penned  him  in,  with  hourly-increasing  fury, 
until  the  day  broke. 


CHAPTER    XII 

THE    PURSUIT    OF    ROSA 

RESOLVED  to  put  his  fate  to  the  proof,  Mr.  Tartar  had 
accepted  the  Minor  Canon's  friendly  invitation  to  pay 
his  mother  and  him  a  visit.  Rosa,  herself  somewhat 
disconcerted  by  his  unexpected  arrival,  succeeded 
to  admiration  in  disconcerting  the  eager  gentleman, 
by  the  coldness  of  the  reception  she  gave  him.  She 
avoided  every  possibility  of  being  left  alone  with  him, 
and  when  the  Minor  Canon  was  absent  on  clerical  duty 
and  Mrs.  Crisparkle  left  the  room  to  attend  to  some 
household  affair,  the  girl  invariably  found  an  excuse 
for  following  her.  But  the  old  lady,  being  on  his  side, 
hit  upon  the  idea  that  Mr.  Tartar  should  intercept 
Rosa  in  the  solitary  walk,  which  she  took  every  day 
when  the  weather  permitted,  persistently  refusing  an 
escort,  and  there,  when  no  escape  was  possible,  lay  his 
case  before  her. 

It  only  required,  on  her  part,  an  anxious  look,  out 
of  the  window,  when  Rosa  had  been  gone  some  ten 
minutes ;  a  fear  that  a  storm  was  rising,  and  she 
believed  that  that  naughty,  naughty,  wilful  little 
puss  had  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  river.  It  was 
silly,  no  doubt,  but  she  felt  quite  uneasy.  The  road 
was  so  lonely,  and  all  sorts  of  bad  people  always  about, 
and  the  days  so  short  now.  What  could  poor  Mr.  Tar 
tar  do  but  offer  himself  as  a  substitute  for  the  Minor 
Canon,  whose  absence  his  mother  deplored  ?  And  he 
was  no  sooner  on  the  road,  breathing  the  fresh,  invigor 
ating  air  of  the  bright  autumn  afternoon,  than  his 
depressed  spirits  rose,  and  hope  and  confidence  came 

124 


THE    PURSUIT   OF    ROSA  125 

back  to  him.  He  even  began  to  thank  heaven  in  his 
heart  for  having  given  him  this  one  more  chance, 
almost  believing  that  a  merciful  Providence  was 
interfering  specially  on  his  behalf ;  although  it  was 
only  Mrs.  Crisparkle  and  not  the  Higher  Power  who 
had  been  taking  active  steps  to  bring  about  the 
meeting,  and  this  excellent  lady  was  not  quite  unerring 
in  her  judgment. 

Rosa  had  really  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  river, 
and  Mr.  Tartar,  flushing  alternately  with  hope  and  with 
despair,  soon  caught  sight  of  the  little  figure,  walking 
slowly  along  the  bank.  She  looked  up,  startled. 
He  saw,  he  felt,  with  sinking  heart,  and  fainting  hope, 
the  look  of  troubled  annoyance  on  her  candid  face, 
which  she  could  not  hide  ;  but  it  was  now  too  late  to 
retreat. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Bud,"  he  said,  while  the 
betraying  colour  dyed  his  face  scarlet,  "  but — but — 
Mrs.  Crisparkle ' 

As  he  stammered  and  hesitated,  she  repeated  the 
word  after  him,  interrogatively — 

"  Mrs.  Crisparkle  ?  " 

"  The  dear  old  lady  grew  anxious  about  you,  feared 
your  walk  was  ill-chosen  for  the  time  of  year,  and  that  a 
storm  was  coming,"  he  said,  with  effort. 

The  girl  smiled  slightly,  as  she  pointed  to  the  calm 
and  peaceful  evening  sky. 

"  And  that — that  the  road  is  solitary,  and  you  might 
meet  some  rough  and  rude  wanderer,  who  would  frighten 
and  distress  you.  She  requested  me,  therefore,  to  go 
and  seek  you  and  bring  you  home." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  answered  Rosa.  "  I  generally 
choose  this  walk  when  I  am  alone.  I  used  to  walk  here 
with  Eddy — my  poor  lost  Eddy." 

The  sea-lieutenant  remained  silent,  though  she  eyed 
him  narrowly,  as  if  she  expected  him  to  speak. 

"  And  I  generally  find  here  what  I  sometimes  long 
for,  and  come  to  seek— solitude,"  she  said,  further. 


126          A    GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  Which  I  have  rudely  broken  in  upon,"  remarked 
Mr.  Tartar,  sadly.  "  I  beg  your  pardon  again.  Do 
you  bid  me  go  ?  " 

The  girl  regarded  him  for  a  moment  with  keen 
attention,  then  said  rapidly — 

"  No,  we  can  return  together.  I  have  overstayed  my 
time,  and  wandered  further  than  I  intended.  Let  us 
make  haste,  Mr.  Tartar,  and  walk  fast,  so  that  kind 
Mrs.  Crisparkle  may  not  have  time  to  grow  seriously 
alarmed." 

"  Will  you  take  my  arm,  Miss  Bud,"  said  the  sea- 
lieutenant,  humbly. 

She  had  been  very  cruel,  to  him,  very  !  She  poured 
cold  water  upon  the  fire  of  his  love  to  quench  it,  with 
steady  and  unerring  hand.  Better  far,  she  reasoned, 
to  nip  this  hopeless  passion  in  the  bud,  than  allow  it  to 
burst  out  into 'full  bloom  and  power,  when  it  might 
defy  her.  But  now  her  soft  heart  melted  with  pity  as 
she  looked  upon  his  mournful  and  dejected  face. 

He  had  learned  his  lesson.  Surely,  surely  he  had 
learned  his  lesson  !  Was  there  any  further  need  to 
torture  him  ?  Without  a  word  she  laid  her  hand  on 
his  arm. 

She  would  not  have  done  so  had  she  known  the  result. 
But  she  was  young,  poor  child !  and  inexperienced, 
and  had  no  one  to  counsel  her. 

What  were  all  her  cold  words  and  actions  compared 
to  the  ineffable  bliss  of  that  slight  touch. 

The  fire  of  love,  never  quenched,  burnt  up  strong 
and  high  again.  To  the  winds  with  reason  and  cruel 
doubts  and  fears.  He  who  would  win  all,  must  risk  all. 

They  were  alone  together ;  her  magical  touch 
thrilling  heart  and  soul,  her  delicate  head  almost 
resting  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Rosa,"  he  said,  stopping  abruptly,  and  looking 
down  upon  her  grave,  sweet  face,  half  raised  to  his,  and 
whitening  with  fear  of  what  she  felt  was  coming,  in 
spite  of  all  she  had  done  to  prevent  it,  "  Rosa,  I  must 


THE   PURSUIT   OF    ROSA  127 

say  what  I  came  to  say  ;  must  speak  out  what  is  in  my 
heart ;  forgive  me  if  I  pain  you,  for  I  love  you,  Rosa." 

Hastily  withdrawing  her  hand  from  his,  the  girl  burst 
into  a  passion  of  tears.  Heavy  drops  oozed  through  the 
slender  fingers,  covering  her  face. 

"  Oh,  Rosa,"  he  went  on,  "  how  weak  and  powerless 
are  words  to  express  what  we  mean.  I  have  thought  of 
some  such  scene  between  us  for  weeks  and  months,  and 
now  can  say  nothing  more  than  that  simple  truth : 
*  I  love  you/  How  much,  how  earnestly,  how  devotedly, 
I  cannot  put  in  words." 

"  Oil,  I  am  so  sorry,"  sobbed  the  girl ;  "  so  unhappy, 
and  so  grieved." 

As  he  sighed  bitterly  and  despairingly,  the  rising 
wind  seemed  to  echo  the  mournful  sound,  and  they  both 
shivered  as  the  sun  went  down,  and  a  mist  coming 
slowly  up,  crept  stealthily  over  the  river. 

"  Can  you  give  me  no  hope,  Rosa  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  cruel  to  give  you  hope,"  she  said, 
raising  her  tear-stained  and  agitated  face,  and  struggling 
to  regain  her  composure,  "  for  it  is  quite,  quite  hopeless. 
I  dare  not  love  you." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  her  eyes  wandered  away  from  his, 
in  the  direction  whence  she  had  been  coming,  and 
she  shuddered  and  covered  her  face  again  with  her 
hand,  as  if  she  saw  something  there  to  terrify  her.  He 
looked  back  also,  for  a  moment ;  and  he,  too,  fancied  he 
saw  a  face,  rising  out  of  the  mist,  and  glaring  at  them 
menacingly.  But  though  he  advanced  a  few  steps  to 
make  sure,  he  saw  nothing  more.  No  wonder  that  his 
eyes  played  him  false,  for  they  were  dim  with  tears. 

"  Dare  not,  Rosa  ?     Why  ?  " 

"  Hush,  do  not  ask  me.  I  dare  not,  Mr.  Tartar, 
and  I  do  not — I  will  not.  Do  not  question  me  further. 
I  shall  never  marry,  never  !  Leave  me  to  my  fate. 
Pity,  and  forgive  me  !  " 

"  Forgive  you,  Rosa !  I  have  nothing  to  forgive. 
I  thank  God  that  He  has  let  me  love  you.  I  thank 


128          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

God  for  every  minute  we  have  spent  together.  Perhaps 
the  time  may  come  when  your  feelings  will  change 
towards  me  ;  mine  never  will  towards  you." 

"Do  not  think  of  that,"  she  said  hurriedly,  and 
pressing  her  hands  together  earnestly,  "  for  it  is 
impossible  ;  it  can  never  be.  I  do  not  love  you  ;  and 
if  I  were  free  instead  of  bound,  I  think  I  should  say  the 
same,  for  I  have  learned  the  misery  of  an  engagement 
without  true,  deep  love,  by  sad,  sad  experience,  and 
would  never  risk  it  again." 

"  How  can  you  be  bound,  Rosa  ?  Who  has  power 
to  bind  you  ?  " 

"  My  own  conviction  of  what  is  right,"  she  said,  with 
sad  seriousness.  "  My  own  unalterable  will.  Promise 
me  never  to  renew  this  topic.  It  would  be  useless. 
Only  a  source  of  grief  and  misery  to  me,  and  to  you, 
also,  I  fear.  Promise  me." 

"  I  promise,"  he  answered  in  a  tone  of  unutterable 
sadness,  for  even  more  forcibly  than  her  words  her  look, 
her  whole  mien,  showed  him  that  all  was  over.  He 
knew  he  was  ringing  a  death-knell  as  he  spoke,  the 
knell  of  the  first  true  love  in  his  heart.  But  what 
mattered  his  fate  compared  to  hers  ?  Would  he  not 
willingly  offer  himself  up  to  give  her  happiness  ?  Like 
a  brave  man  he  struck  down  his  own  cherished  hopes, 
and  buried  them  for  ever. 

"  We  must  not  see  each  other  again,"  continued 
Rosa,  weeping  afresh.  "  At  least,  not  for  a  long,  long 
time,  and  until  the  pain  we  are  both  now  suffering  is 
over  and  forgotten.  I  thank  you  for  your  generous 
love  ;  love  too  generous  to  urge  itself  upon  me,  and 
give  me  needless  pain.  I  am  ignorant,"  she  added, 
smiling  faintly,  and  putting  out  her  small  hand  ;  "  but 
believe  me,  I  know  how  to  appreciate  that,  and  to 
estimate  its  true  nobility." 

He  took  the  little  tender  hand,  and  pressed  it  rever 
ently  to  his  lips.  He  dared  not  speak,  or  he  must  have 
broken  down  and  given  way  to  an  unmanly  weakness, 


THE   PURSUIT   OF   ROSA  129 

which  would  only  have  distressed  her.  But  how  hard 
it  was  to  bear  ! 

Never  had  she  appeared  to  him  so  lovely  and  so 
lovable.  The  knowledge  of  the  inestimable  worth  of 
the  jewel  he  had  longed  to  possess  heightened  his 
suffering. 

"  And  now  let  us  part/'  continued  the  girl.  Her 
voice  was  faint,  and  she  felt  weak  and  dizzy,  but  she 
longed  to  be  alone.  "  Leave  me  !  "  she  said.  "  I 
must  have  time  to  collect  myself,  and  I  would  rather 
you  went  on  before  me." 

He  hesitated.  It  was  twilight  already,  and  the  night 
gathering. 

"  Let  me  first  bring  you  home,  Miss  Bud,  I  implore 
you." 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  cried,  in  a  sort  of  agony  ;  "I  must 
be  alone.  I  cannot  go  back  yet  to  Minor  Canon  Corner. 
Look,  there  are  the  lights  of  the  city  before  us,  and  I 
am  perfectly  safe.  I  have  been  here  alone  many  times 
before,  and  I  shall  follow  you  in  a  few  minutes.  Leave 
me,  I  beseech  you  !  " 

Still  he  lingered,  uneasy  and  undecided.  A  dread 
of — he  knew  not  what,  fell  heavily  upon  him.  He 
looked  back  along  the  path  by  the  river,  with  a 
strange,  undefmable,  unaccustomed  sense  of  fear. 

But  his  far-seeing  eyes  could  find  no  tangible  reason 
for  such  a  feeling.  The  path  lay  plainly  visible  by  the 
light  of  the  rising  moon  which  shone  brighter  every 
moment,  and  was  empty  and  deserted.  Only  over  the 
placid  river,  flowing  calmly  towards  the  ocean,  lay  the 
autumn  mist. 

And  they  were  so  close  to  the  city  that  they  could 
hear  the  hum  of  its  population.  There  was  no  outward 
reason  apparently  for  his  shuddering — shuddering,  as 
old  wives  say,  as  if  some  one  were  walking  over  his 
grave. 

"  Leave  me  !  "  said  the  weeping  girl  again. 

He  had  no  choice  but  to  obey.  No  shadow  of 
K 


A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

right  to  force  his  company  upon  her,  or  compel  her  to 
return  with  him. 

Begging  her,  therefore,  to  follow  him  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  with  a  solemn  good-bye  for  ever  as  he 
thought ;  with  heavy  heart  and  wounded  soul,  he  went 
away  towards  the  city,  and  left  her  to  the  solitude  she 
desired. 

J";  How  could  he  imagine,  how  was  it  possible  for  him  to 
imagine,  that  his  doing  so  would  become  a  source  of 
bitter  self-reproach,  and  make  one  of  the  saddest 
memories  of  his  life  ? 


Weary  and  worn  out  from  futile  passion  and  hopeless 
fury,  John  Jasper  sat  solitary  and  friendless  in  his 
lodgings,  in  a  narrow,  mean  street  behind  Holborn,  and 
watched,  with  bloodshot  and  haggard  eyes,  the  coming 
day.  It  had  ceased  raining  during  the  night,  and  the 
fitful  wind,  which  "  bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  no  longer 
howled  and  roared  through  the  city.  The  sun  rose, 
and  smiling  in  at  the  dark  chamber  where  sat  John 
Jasper,  brought  out  into  strong  relief  hard,  cruel  lines 
about  his  mouth  and  eyes,  invisible  before  ;  and  seemed 
to  point  at  him  with  its  bright  rays,  as  wfro  should  say  : 
"  Take  notice  of  these  signs  and  tokens  which  not  Time, 
but  Crime,  hath  graven  !  For  this  purpose,  I  still 
shine  upon  this  man,  to  point  him  out  as  one  to  be 
avoided." 

As  the  day  advanced,  and  the  sounds  of  busy  life 
outside  grew  more  and  more  frequent,  increasing  to  a 
bewildering  hubbub,  John  Jasper  got  up  wearily  from 
the  hard  sofa  on  which  he  had  been  resting,  and  began 
to  make  his  toilette.  He  washed  himself,  for  the  first 
time  for  days,  with  great  care  and  deliberation ;  then 
shaved  away  all  hair  from  cheeks  and  chin,  not  even 
sparing  his  luxuriant  whiskers,  and  not  desisting  until 
he  was  as  bare  in  face  as  a  Catholic  Priest.  Only  a 
blue  shadow  on  the  parts  thus  exposed  to  public 


THE    PURSUIT   OF   ROSA  131 

view  gave  token  of  what  had  been,  and  what  might 
be  again.  His  trembling  and  unnerved  hand  played 
him  an  ugly  trick,  though,  just  at  last,  and  with  the 
sharp  razor  inflicted  a  sharp  cut  upon  his  cheek,  from 
which  the  blood  flowed  freely.  With  a  curse,  he  flung 
away  the  instrument,  and  stilling  the  flow  of  blood, 
covered  the  wound  with  a  bit  of  sticking-plaster,  which 
did  not  tend  to  diminish  the  sinister  and  lowering 
expression  of  his  face.  He  put  on  a  new  shirt,  new 
waistcoat,  spick  and  span  new  coat  and  trousers — all 
of  which  he  took  out  of  a  drawer  he  had  unlocked,  and 
which  had  been  lying  there  j  together,  apparently 
in  readiness  for  a  special  occasion,  which  had  now 
arrived.  These  preparations  completed,  he  donned  a 
new  collar  and  new  tie,  and  finally  took  a  careful  survey 
of  himself  in  the  looking-glass.  Notwithstanding  the 
newness  and  respectability  of  his  apparel,  and  the 
cleanliness  of  his  person,  the  result  did  not  appear, 
if  but  to  himself,  to  be  satisfactory.  Even  his  personal 
vanity,  if  he  possessed  any,  could  not  help  him  to  deny 
the  fact — which  the  dingy  and  dirty  looking-glass  failed 
to  conceal — that  he  was  not  pleasant  to  look  at.  The 
jetty  blackness  of  his  hair ;  the  deep,  dark  shadows 
under  his  eyes  ;  the  lurid  light  which  shone  out  of  those 
eyes  themselves,  contrasted  in  a  sinister  and  Mephisto- 
phelian  manner  with  the  sallow  and  sickly  pallor  of  his 
face.  He  had  been  a  good-looking  man  a  few  months 
ago  ;  he  was  a  very  ill-looking  man  now. 

His  eyes  wandered  away  from  that  reflection  of  him 
self  in  the  mirror,  and  fell  upon  the  open  razor,  lying 
still  upon  the  table.  A  sudden  and  impulsive  thought 
rushed  into  his  brain,  and  the  truthful  looking-glass 
reflected  back  the  hot  colour  which  instantaneously 
suffused  his  livid  face.  Should  he  end  the  struggle 
then  and  there  ? — that  thing  was  sharp  enough  !  A 
scratch  across  his  throat,  one  vein  severed  at  his  wrist, 
and  the  world  and  its  troubles,  its  tortures  and  its  fierce 
conflicts,  would  flow  away  from  him  for  ever  with  his 


132          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

flowing  blood.  He  had  heard  that  it  was  an  easy  death 
to  die.  He  took  up  the  razor,  and  felt  its  keen,  sharp 
edge. 

But  the  next  moment  he  dashed  it  down  again  with 
an  oath,  "  What,  lose  her,  and  let  them  triumph  ?  " 
he  muttered.  "  No,  not  so  long  as  there  is  a  devil  to 
help  me/' 

Going  up  to  the  shabby  mantelpiece,  beside  which 
hung  a  moth-eaten  and  nearly  worn  out  bell-rope,  he 
gave  the  summons  for  his  breakfast. 

He  ate  little,  and  that  little  without  appetite.  The 
tea  was  weak  and  tasteless,  the  roll  doughy,  the  butter 
disgusting.  But  the  most  costly  viands  would  not  have 
tempted  him. 

He  poured  out  a  glass  of  brandy,  and  took  a  long 
draught.  Ah,  that  was  what  he  needed  !  It  gave  him 
new  strength  and  new  courage.  His  hand  became 
steady  ;  his  drooping  form  straightened  itself.  He  was 
able  to  complete  his  preparations.  Unlocking  another 
drawer,  he  took  out  of  it  a  small  box,  padlocked.  It 
contained  money — bank  notes  ;  gold  and  silver  in  little 
rolls.  He  counted  it  out  with  a  hand  almost  firm 
and  steady  now,  and  his  face  assumed  a  satisfied  and 
triumphant  expression  as  he  did  so. 

"  It  is  enough  !  "  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  The 
proceeds  of  the  sale  of  my  connection  in  Cloisterham  ; 
that  money  which  the  infernal  lawyer  made  such 
difficulty  about  giving  me  ;  the  little  I  have  saved  by 
long  years  of  drudgery.  Curse  it  all !  No,  bless  it,  for 
it  is  enough  !  " 

He  tied  the  notes  together  and  put  them  in  the  breast 
pocket  of  his  coat ;  distributed  the  rolls  of  gold  in  other 
receptacles  about  his  person,  and  dropped  the  silver 
loose  into  the  pockets  of  his  trousers  ;  smiling  and 
singing  in  a  low,  sweet  voice  as  he  did  so.  He  was  quite 
calm  and  serene  now ;  and  might  have  been  simply 
dressing  himself  for  service  at  the  Cathedral,  so  com 
posed  and  orderly  was  his  demeanour. 


THE   PURSUIT   OF   ROSA  133 

He  was  tolerably  well  weighted  by  this  time,  but  he 
added  a  loaded  revolver,  and  took  another  draught  of 
brandy. 

For  reasons  of  his  own — perhaps  only  to  stretch  his 
cramped  limbs  after  long  and  close  watching  of  the 
house  which  Neville  and  Helena  inhabited — Mr.  Jasper 
never  went  straight  from  one  place  to  the  other,  but 
dodged  in  and  out  of  the  intricate  streets,  in  a  manner 
which  must  have  proved  fatal  to  the  hopes  of  any  one 
desirous  of  tracking  him. 

Threading  street  after  street,  in  the  same  steady, 
resolute  manner,  he  did  not  avail  himself  of  any  of 
the  public  conveyances  which  continually  rattled  past 
him,  as  he  might  have  done  easily,  but  kept  on,  always 
on  foot,  until  he  had  reached  the  extreme  outskirts  of 
the  great  city  ;  when  he  began  to  feel  that  his  strength 
was  failing  him. 

He  had  stopped  to  rest  nowhere,  and  eaten  nothing  ; 
and  having  made  a  great  many  unnecessary  turns,  to 
mystify  any  one  who  might  take  a  fancy  to  follow  him, 
he  found  to  his  surprise  and  alarm  that  it  was  close 
upon  the  sunset ;  that  all  the  fictitious  strength  which 
the  brandy  had  given  him  was  evaporated ;  that  he 
was  weary  to  death  from  his  long  march,  and  famishing 

The  road  before  him  began  to  heave  and  surge,  like 
the  waters  of  a  great  sea  ;  a  black  shroud  to  envelop  him 
from  head  to  foot ;  he  fancied  for  a  moment  that  he 
was  being  wafted  away  to  an  unknown  region ;  then 
thought  and  feeling  left  him,  and  he  sank  to  the  ground. 

He  could  have  been  insensible  but  a  few  minutes, 
when  he  opened  his  eyes  again.  At  first  he  could  see 
nothing,  and  in  an  agony  of  fear,  believed  that  he 
had  been  struck  blind.  But  feebly  grasping  in  the 
air  for  something  to  catch  hold  of,  and  stay  him  up, 
he  encountered  a  helping  hand,  and  the  next  moment 
not  only  felt,  but  saw,  a  man  standing  by  his  side. 

An  old  man,  shabby  and  palsied,  whose  hand  shook 
and  teeth  chattered  as  he  addressed  him — 


134          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  Have  you  hurt  yourself  ?  You  fell  heavy,  master. 
Have  you  had  a  faint,  or  a  drop  too  much  ?  (with  a 
feeble  grin).  No  offence,  master.  It  may  happen  to 
the  best  on  us,  when  we've  got  the  money  for  the 
drink." 

"  I've  had  a  fainting  fit,  I  fear.  I've  come  a  long 
way  to-day." 

"  Sure,  sure,  master !  No  offence  !  I  wish  I  had 
the  money  for  the  drop  too  much.  I  wouldn't  stick 
at  the  drop,  and  never  did,  master.  There's  a  'pothe- 
cary  close  by ;  as  good  as  a  doctor,  master.  Shall  I 
call  un  ?  " 

"  No,  no !  It's  nothing.  I'm  used  to  it.  I'm 
better  now.  Quite  well  again.  I  can  stand,  you  see." 

"  As  you  will,  master.  It  ain't  for  the  likes  of  me 
to  contradict  you.  Ned  Nobbles  knows  his  place." 

But  John  Jasper  still  shook  and  trembled,  and  he 
clung  to  the  old  man — a  very  indifferent  support — or 
he  would  have  fallen  again.  It  was  evident  that  he 
could  go  no  further  without  food  and  rest. 

"  Is  there  a  decent  public-house  anywhere  about  here 
where  I  can  get  a  bed  and  something  fit  to  eat  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sure,"  the  old  man  answered,  "  as  decent  a 
house  and  as  affable  a  landlady  as  you  might  meet  with 
on  a  day's  march  ;  and  fust-rate  beer." 

And  the  old  man  tottered  on  before,  with  a  faint 
hope  kindling  in  his  withered  old  heart  that  the  well- 
dressed  stranger  would  stand  treat,  while  John  Jasper 
staggered  after,  with  a  feebler  gait,  and  still  more 
trembling  limbs  than  the  grey-haired  veteran  of 
eighty-five. 

"  Here,  friend,  drink  a  couple  of  glasses  in  the  bar 
for  my  reckoning,"  said  Mr.  Jasper,  when  they  got 
there,  putting  half-a-crown  into  the  old  man's  hand. 

"  Thank  ye  kindly,  master.  Time  was  when  Ned 
Nobbles  could  have  treated  ye,  and  been  proud  to  do  it, 
but  ill-fortune  have  brought  un  low,  and  he  ain't  above 
acceptin'  of  a  trifle  now." 


THE   PURSUIT   OF   ROSA  135 

And  the  bustling  landlady,  coming  out  with  a  smiling 
remonstrance  for  Ned  Nobbles — quickly  changed  to  a 
smiling  assent  at  the  sight  of  the  Queen's  head  upon 
the  coin,  which  he  held  up  triumphantly — had  com 
prehended  the  state  of  things  in  a  twinkling ;  had  a 
glass  of  something  to  set  the  poor  gentleman  upon  his 
feet  again  in  a  trice  ;  and  was  giving  directions  to  an 
unseen  individual  in  the  kitchen,  and  an  unseen  individ 
ual  in  the  upper  regions,  to  get  the  supper  ready,  and  to 
prepare  No.  3  for  a  "  gentleman  as  is  going  to  stay  the 
night,"  before  you  could  draw  your  first  delighted 
breath  of  satisfaction  at  the  joviality  of  her  appearance. 

In  half  an  hour  John  Jasper  was  eating  the  supper 
prepared  for  him — as  good  and  well-cooked  a  supper 
as  the  heart,  or  rather  the  palate  of  man  could  desire 
— at  first  greedily,  till  the  first  sharp  pangs  of  hunger 
were  appeased ;  then  more  deliberately  ;  and  after 
swallowing  for  a  second  time  a  glass  of  a  mixture, 
fragrant  to  smell,  delicious  to  taste,  and  possessing, 
as  the  radiant  hostess  said,  looking  on  smilingly  as  he 
swallowed  it,  properties  so  narcotic  that  he  was  safe 
for  a  good  night's  rest,  which  it  would  be  superfluous 
to  further  wish  him,  he  staggered  upstairs  to  No.  3, 
and  had  scarcely  laid  himself  between  the  well-aired 
sheets,  when  sleep,  heavy  and  dreamless — such  sleep 
as  he  had  not  enjoyed  for  months — fell  upon  him. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

ON  THE   HIGH   ROAD   TO  CLOISTERHAM 

FOR  many  hours  John  Jasper  lay  prostrate  in  a  heavy 
and  dreamless  sleep,  or,  if,  as  some  learned  in  such  things 
tell  us,  the  brain  is  more  hardly  dealt  with  than  the 
body,  that  although  the  latter  may  enjoy  repose,  the 
former  may  never,  and  that  we  think  or  dream  always 
— at  any  rate,  one  dream  swallowed  up  and  effaced  the 
foregoing  one,  and  they  left  no  impression  which  he 
could  retain  when  he  awoke.  But  towards  morning, 
when  the  cocks  began  to  crow,  and  the  horses  to  grow 
restless  in  theii  stables  ;  when  the  birds  drew  their 
heads  out  of  their  feathers,  and  twittered  and  chirped 
in  expectation  of  the  coming  day ;  when  the  active 
landlady,  already  in  her  stockings,  and  smiling  from 
purest  habit,  rang  the  bell  for  the  lazy  maids,  and 
began  to  poke  and  harass  her  more  sluggardly  mate, 
John  Jasper  had  a  dream. 

He  dreamed  that  he  was  back  again  in  Cloisterham, 
and  that  the  bells  were  ringing  for  early  service  in  the 
Cathedral ;  that  Mrs.  Tope  was  moving  softly  in  the 
next  room,  getting  his  breakfast — how  deliciously  and 
temptingly  the  fragrant  scent  of  the  coffee  tickled  his 
nose  ! — that  the  dreadful  and  accusing  past  was  only  a 
cruel  nightmare  which  had  brooded  over  him  during 
the  long  night,  and  which  would  vanish  with  the 
daylight ;  that  he  was  innocent  and  happy,  glad  once 
more  and  joyous ;  that  his  nephew — what  an  awful 
dream  he  had  had  about  him  ;  thank  God,  that  it  was 
over ! — was  standing  by  his  bedside,  laughing.  He 
heard  him  call  him  with  his  fresh  young  voice — 

136 


ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  137 

"  Jack,  old  boy,  wake  up,  'tis  morning  !  Get  up, 
lazy  fellow !  " 

He  threw  back  the  bed  clothes,  started  up,  sprang 
vigorously  out  of  bed,  and  hurried,  still  half-asleep,  to 
the  window  to  draw  up  the  blind,  for  it  was  still  nearly 
quite  dark.  It  was  about  six  o'clock,  and  there  was  a 
fresh,  healthful  and  invigorating  "  feel "  in  the  air. 
In  the  east,  the  day  was  breaking. 

Suddenly,  with  a  start  and  a  shiver,  with  a  rush  of 
accusing  blood  to  his  damp  forehead,  the  glorious 
vision  vanished.  With  the  old,  old  weight  upon  his 
heart  and  soul,  which  had  been  lightened  for  a  moment, 
the  dread  reality  came  back.  Covering  his  face  with 
his  guilty  hands,  the  stains  on  which  nothing  could 
efface,  he  knew  again  where  he  was,  and  what  he  was. 

There  are  many  who  have  felt  the  inexpressible 
relief  and  bliss  which  fills  the  heart,  when  waking  up 
from  a  dream  of  terror  and  anguish,  with  the  cold  sweat 
of  fear  upon  the  brow,  with  convulsive  shudderings  in 
the  limbs,  and  an  indescribable  terror  weighing  down 
every  faculty,  as  with  leaden  weights,  we  come  back 
to  the  delightful  knowledge,  that  it  is  only  a  foolish 
dream — a  chimera,  which  has  been  haunting  us, 
probably  induced  by  an  indigestible  supper,  or  an  un 
comfortable  position  ;  that  we  are  still  happy  and 
honoured  ;  that  the  sunshine  is  trying  to  peep  through 
our  own  snug  window  curtains,  and  not  through  prison 
bars  ;  that  the  wife  of  our  bosom,  whom  we  dreamed 
of — we  shudder  still  at  the  recollection  ! — as  foully 
murdered,  is  lying,  sweetly  sleeping  at  our  side  ;  that 
our  darling  little  cherubs,  whom  we  fancied  croup  had 
carried  off  victims,  are  roaring  lustily  at  the  very 
moment  overhead  (we  hear  nurse  scolding  them,  what 
a  mercy  Lucy  does  not) ;  that  the  spectre  which  ap 
palled  is  laid  again,  and  that  we  can  doze  off  once 
more,  on  the  other  side — for  it  would  be  a  crying 
shame  to  rouse  our  darling  Lucy  ;  who  does  not  know 
the  bliss  of  such  a  waking  !  Who  can  imagine,  being 


138          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

innocent,  the  agony  of  mind,  the  horror  of  himself, 
which  a  lost  soul  must  feel,  who,  having  dreamed 
himself  guiltless,  wakes  up  guilty  ? 

John  Jasper  had  awakened  to  the  full  misery  of  such 
a  feeling.  To  the  bitter  dregs,  he  must  drink  the  cup 
which  he  had  mixed.  Yet  perhaps  an  all  merciful 
Heaven  sent  the  vision  as  a  last  warning  to  desist. 
Did  the  guardian  angel  given  him  at  his  birth  come 
back  once  more  after  long  absence  and  point  with 
gentle  hand  to  repentance,  as  a  last  hope  of  rescue  ? 
Perhaps  even  to  John  Jasper,  standing  barefoot  in  the 
middle  of  the  little  bedroom,  looking  with  clenched 
hands  and  wide-open  horror-struck  eyes  upon  the 
rising  sun  tinging  the  heavens  with  the  glory  of  its 
presence — perhaps  even  to  his  strayed  soul  a  warning 
voice  was  speaking,  ''  Turn  back  upon  the  path 
which  thou  art  treading  !  Repent  of  the  sins  which 
thou  hast  committed,  in  sackcloth  and  in  ashes,  and  sin 
no  more  !  Even  for  sinners  lost  as  thee,  Heaven  can 
find  a  refuge  !  "  Merciful  God  !  Once  upon  a  time, 
long,  long  ago,  he  had  loved  to  look  upon  the  rising  sun, 
and  rejoiced — he  also — in  the  sunshine. 

Glorious  and  majestic  rose  the  orb  of  day,  looking 
down  in  splendour  upon  the  earth  which  it  quickened. 
No  wonder  that  the  ancients  worshipped  and  bowed 
down  before  it.  No  wonder  that  to  them,  this  sun, 
life-giving  and  life-restoring,  was  not  alone  an  emblem 
of  the  God  who  made  it,  but  that  God  Himself.  Float 
ing  up  into  the  blue  heaven,  it  rose  grandly  ;  higher, 
and  ever  higher.  The  great  wonder,  which  takes  place 
every  morning,  before  the  eyes  of  the  indifferent  and 
unobserving,  before  the  eyes  of  scoffers  and  scorners, 
before  the  eyes  of  believers  and  unbelievers,  took  place 
once  more.  God  said,  "  Let  there  be  light,  and  there 
was  light." 

But  all  light  was  powerless  to  lighten  the  darkness 
of  John  Jasper.  If,  for  one  moment,  a  fitful  ray  fell 
upon  his  black  soul,  showing  him  dimly  the  depth  of  its 


ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  139 

depravity,  it  soon  went  out  again.  If,  for  one  moment, 
his  guardian  angel  made  a  last  effort  to  rescue  him,  he 
was  foiled  in  the  attempt,  and  fled  away  for  ever. 

He  laughed  loud  and  recklessly  :  strength  had  come 
back  to  him  with  the  morning  light,  and  that  was  all  he 
cared  for,  strength  to  do  the  evil  he  desired. 

He  dressed  himself,  went  downstairs,  and  ordered 
breakfast.  It  was  soon  ready,  and  he  ate,  if  not  heartily, 
at  any  rate  abundantly,  for  he  was  determined  not  to 
run  the  risk  again  of  fainting  on  the  road.  Then  he 
paid  the  ever-smiling  landlady,  and  set  off  to  walk 
again,  taking  the  high  road  which  led  to  Cloisterham. 

It  was  not  strange  that  he  should  feel  a  wish  to 
revisit  his  old  home,  and  old  acquaintances  ;  but  it 
was  singular  that  he  should  choose  to  walk  there,  when 
the  place  was  so  easily  accessible  by  means  of  the 
railroad  and  the  coach ;  or  if,  for  old  acquaintance' 
sake,  he  preferred  the  road  upon  which  he  had  trudged 
weary  footed  many  a  time  in  his  younger  days,  but 
with  a  lighter  heart  then,  why  did  he  not  hire  a  vehicle 
of  some  kind,  and  drive  there  ?  Why,  indeed  ? 

He  had  not  gone  very  far,  when  he  saw  before  him  a 
young  man,  also  walking  in  the  same  direction,  who 
turned  round  at  the  sound  of  footsteps  behind  him,  and 
then  stooped  to  pick  a  late  flower  by  the  hedgeside. 
A  dark,  spare  man  with  shabby  coat,  and  blue  spec 
tacles.  John  Jasper  knew  the  man,  or  thought  he  did. 
If  he  were  not  much  mistaken,  it  was  the  same  young 
fellow  whom  he  had  seen  go  in  and  out  of  Staple  Inn 
sometimes  when  he  was  on  the  watch  there.  He  had 
ascertained  by  direct  enquiries  of  the  porter  in  charge 
of  the  gate — who  had  no  objection  to  a  shilling  now 
and  then,  though  the  information  he  could  give  in 
return  was  very  scant — that  the  young  man  was  the 
new  clerk  of  Mr.  Grewgious  ;  that  nobody  knew  any 
thing  further  about  him,  good  or  bad,  except  that 
he  was  always  punctual  and  always  melancholy. 
"  Crossed  in  love,  maybe,"  said  the  porter  jocosely, 


140          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  them  young  chaps  takes  such  things  terrible  to 
'eart  the  fust  time,  and  goes  downright  melancholy 
mad  ;  but  Lord  love  you  !  it  don't  last  long  ;  and  the 
second  time  it  don't  hurt  so  much,  you  see  "  (with  a 
wink,  intended  to  express  that  he  had  large  experience 
in  this  respect  himself,  and  spoke  from  profound 
personal  knowledge) . 

John  Jasper  eyed  the  young  man,  or  rather  the  back 
of  the  young  man,  narrowly  (for  he  was  still  engaged 
in  picking  leaves  and  flowers)  as  he  recalled  the  porter's 
observations.  This  was  a  long  way  from  Staple  Inn, 
and  past  the  hour  for  the  usual  attendance  at  the  office. 
What  the  devil  was  he  doing  here  ? 

Nothing,  apparently,  or  only  botanising.  And  as 
John  Jasper  passed  him,  he  turned  back  again,  and 
went  slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  city.  Whom  was 
he  like  ?  Whom  did  he  remind  him  of,  in  gait  and 
carriage  ?  although  he  walked  more  slowly,  and  had 
not  the  elastic  spring  of  the  other.  Bah  !  why  must 
he  always,  sleeping  and  waking,  be  so  constantly  in  his 
thoughts  ;  he  was  quiet  for  ever  now  ;  could  never 
more  drive  him  mad  by  boyish  boasting  of  his  own 
good  fortune  and  happiness,  so  cruel  a  contrast  to 
another's  ;  for  he  "  had  put  on  immortality." 

Forgetting  in  this  new  groove  of  thought,  the  man 
whose  presence  had  sent  him  there,  he  began  to  wonder, 
if,  after  all,  his  fears  were  not  driving  him  too  fast ; 
if  the  woman  had  not  lied,  when  she  said  the  hounds 
were  after  him — mother  of  lies  that  she  was  !  He  had 
always  had  this  last  plan  in  reserve,  if  the  others  should 
fail ;  but  it  would  be  an  infernal  pity,  if  later  events 
should  prove  that  he  might  still  have  completed  that 
web,  at  which  he  had  been  weaving  so  ceaselessly,  and 
which  was  almost  ready  to  catch  and  hold  the  man  for 
whom  it  was  intended,  in  its  murderous  meshes.  There 
were  a  hundred  chances  to  one  that  she  had  lied,  in 
order  to  extort  money  from  him. 

But  if  she  had  not  ?     If  she  had  told  the  truth  for 


ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  141 

the  first  time  in  her  life  (and  that  she  knew  his  secret, 
he  could  not  doubt,  after  what  she  had  said  ;  he  must 
have  blabbed  it  out  under  the  influence  of  that  accursed 
opium)  what  then  ?  what  then  ? 

Why  then,  delay  would  have  been  madness  and 
almost  surely  fatal  to  his  hopes.  All  the  labours  of  his 
sleepless  nights  and  weary  days  would  have  been  in 
vain.  He  had  made  so  certain  that  he  had  closely 
shut  the  door,  and  effectually  blocked  up  all  the  windows 
and  crannies  by  which  suspicion  might  enter,  and  now 
— now  he  must  find,  that  in  the  dead  of  night,  when 
no  one  could  have  dreamed  her  on  the  look  out,  he  had 
opened  the  carefully  locked  and  barricaded  door,  and 
let  her  in  himself. 

A  sort  of  fury  against  his  own  person,  which  had  been 
guilty  of  such  unpardonable  weakness,  overcame  him 
for  a  moment,  and  he  struck  himself  violently  in  the 
face  with  his  clenched  fist.  His  own  enemy  once  more, 
for  the  blood  spurted  from  his  nose,  and  dropped  down 
upon  his  new  tie  and  spotless  waistcoat !  He  shud 
dered  as  he  saw  what  he  had  done,  but  it  was  too  late 
now.  He  was  a  marked  man  again  ;  blood  upon  his 
face  and  hands ;  blood  staining  his  new  clothes ; 
crimsoning  the  white  handkerchief  which  he  drew  out 
to  staunch  it — blood  everywhere. 

It  was  awful,  sickening.  He  not  only  smelt,  but 
tasted  it.  The  instinctive  aversion  which  almost 
every  human  being  feels  at  the  sight  of  blood,  which  is 
the  life,  he,  the  murderer,  felt  no  less  than  others.  He 
sat  down  on  a  milestone  by  the  road,  with  closed 
eyes,  and  almost  fainting.  When  he  recovered  suffi 
ciently  to  try  and  wipe  away  the  stains,  they  were 
dry  already.  He  only  succeeded  in  removing  the 
marks  from  his  face  and  hands  with  the  handkerchief, 
which  he  put,  blood-stained,  into  his  pocket,  buttoning 
his  great  coat  (which  for  ease  in  walking,  for  the  day 
was  bright  and  warm,  he  had  worn  loose)  over  the  ugly 
stains  upon  his  waistcoat. 


142          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

Shine  down  upon  him,  oh  sun,  in  all  thy  splendour  ! 
Bring  out  into  strong  relief  the  sinister  and  cruel  lines 
upon  his  beardless  face !  Point  at  him  with  thy  bright 
finger,  and  show  him  up  to  the  whole  world,  as  a 
dangerous  man — a  murderous  man — a  man  to  be 
avoided ! 

Never  mind !  Even  if  the  hounds  were  after  him, 
they  were  a  long  way  behind.  A  whole  day  in  arrear, 
at  all  events.  He  would  baffle  them  yet,  and  obtain 
what  he  wanted  in  spite  of  them.  Ha,  ha,  he  was 
baffling  them  at  that  moment ! 

Not  so  fast,  John  Jasper !  Who  are  these  two 
individuals,  rough  of  coat  and  rough  of  tongue,  though 
endeavouring  to  soften  the  latter,  out  of  deference  to  a 
smiling,  radiant  little  landlady,  who  is  mixing  with  her 
own  fair  hands,  and  with  equal  readiness,  for  their 
delectation,  a  couple  of  glasses  of  the  same  mixture 
which  set  you  on  your  feet  yesterday  and  which  is  to 
keep  them  on  their  feet  to-day  ? 

"  Capital  stuff,  missus,"  said  one  of  them,  draining 
his  glass  to  the  last  drop,  and  even  then  trying  to 
make  it  yield  another,  "  a'most  as  capital  and  as 
worthy  of  hadmiration  as  the  fair  mixer."  And  the 
speaker,  an  undersized,  strongly-built  man,  with  light 
hair,  full  red  beard,  and  sharp  twinkling  blue  eyes, 
leered  admiringly  at  the  hostess. 

The  other  man,  taller  than  his  companion,  with  darker 
hair  and  eyes,  and  a  serious,  not  to  say  heavy  expres 
sion  of  countenance,  was  still  engaged  in  the  business  of 
emptying  his  glass,  as  his  companion  spoke  ;  but  he  now 
put  it  down  empty  also. 

"  Took  the  road  to  Cloisterham,  did  he,  missus  ?  "  he 
enquired  slowly,  fingering  something  contemplatively 
in  his  pocket  as  he  spoke. 

"  The  road  to  Cloisterham,"  chirruped  the  beaming 
landlady.  "  I  went  out  myself  to  see.  Have  another 
glass,  gentlemen  ?  it  shall  be  ready  in  a  minute." 

The  little  man,  with  a  longing  look  in  his  blue  eyes, 


ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  143 

glanced  enquiringly  at  the  other,  who  answered  him, 
and  not  the  landlady. 

"  No,  William  ;  we've  a  long  pull,  and  a  strong 
pull,  to  make  to-day,  and  I'm  not  a  gwine  to  let 
you  fuddle  yourself  beforehand,  not  if  I  knows  it, 
William." 

"  You  are  right,  Josiah,"  answered  the  other, 
resignedly. 

"  Now  I'd  risk  another  glass  of  the  stuff,"  said  the 
man  called  Josiah,  this  time  speaking  to  the  hostess, 
"  that  the  man,  missus,  was  a  handsome  man.  I 
calculate  on  having  some  experience  of  the  ladies,  and 
the  ladies  wouldn't  take  the  trouble  to  run  after  us, 
for  the  puppus  of  one  more  look  of  our  handsome  mugs. 
Now  would  they,  William  ?  " 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  the  other. 

"  He  wasn't  a  handsome  man,"  cried  the  landlady, 
eagerly,  and  blushing  a  little,  "  he  was  an  ugly  man,  a 
frightful  man,  an  odious  man." 

As  she  spoke,  William  leered  at  Josiah  ;  and  Josiah, 
fondly  patting  again  that  something  in  his  pocket, 
frowned  at  William. 

"  Lor  now  !  Only  think  !  Not  handsome  !  "  said 
the  tall  man.  "  But  I  reckon  I  know  what  missus 
means.  Lor,  I'm  acquainted  with  the  lovely  sex,  have 
studied  'em  on  all  sides,  and  from  all  pints  of  the 
compass.  Though,  for  the  matter  of  that,  'tis  im 
possible  to  get  to  the  bottom  on  'em  arter  all.  But 
in  the  matter  of  beauty  in  the  masculine  gender,  the 
ladies  have  but  one  opinion.  A  man  may  have  the 
face  and  figur  of  an  Apoller,  but  if  he  ain't  got  a  beard, 
he's  an  *  odious  man '  to  them.  They  dotes  upon 
beards,  bless  'em  !  Ten  to  one,  William,  and  sure  to 
win,  that  the  gentleman  hadn't  got  no  beard." 

The  landlady  laughed  as  she  met  the  speaker's  eyes, 
and  laughed  more  loudly  still,  as  Josiah  pulled  at  his 
own  black  beard,  and  William  ran  his  fingers  through 
his  bushy  red  one,  with  unspeakable  complacency. 


144          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  No,  he  hadn't  a  beard/'  she  said,  "  not  that  she 
cared  about  one,  not  a  bit." 

"  Nor  whiskers  ?  "  put  in  William,  on  his  own  account. 

"  Nor  whiskers." 

"  Nor  moustaches  ?  "  enquired  William,  again. 

"  Nor  moustaches,"  answered  the  hostess. 

"  William,"  interrupted  Josiah,  suddenly,  in  a  sombre 
and  rebuking  manner,  "  if  you  ain't  got  nothing  better 
to  say  than  them  there  remarks,  hunder  the  gravity 
of  the  present  hoccasion,  then  you'd  much  better  turn 
your — I  won't  say  insignificant  person,  William,  for 
I  never  wounds  the  feelings  of  a  friend,  hunder  any 
circumstances,  however  haggravated,  but  will  only 
say — your  person,  such  as  it  is,  back  towards  London, 
and  stay  there,  William.  That's  my  advice,  William. 
Take  it  or  leave  it." 

"  You  are  right,  Josiah,"  answered  the  other, 
humbly. 

"  Very  well.  Favour  me  with  your  attention, 
missus.  The  cove  has  took  the  road  to  Cloisterham  ; 
has  got  no  beard ;  had  on  a  new  suit  of  dark  brown 
cloth." 

"  No,  grey,"  said  the  landlady. 

"  Of  course,  mum.  Only  a  slip  of  the  tongue.  And 
his  'at  ?  A  chimney  pot,  warn't  it,  missus  ?  " 

"  A  dark  felt  hat,  drawn  low  over  his  face." 

"  To  be  sure  !  And  what  was  it  o'clock,  mum,  when 
the  cove  took  the  high  road  to  Cloisterham  ?  " 

"  More  than  two  hours  ago." 

"  Only  think !  Two  hours  ago !  Come  along, 
William.  We  ain't  got  no  time  to  lose.  Good  morning, 
missus  ;  we  shall  be  a  coming  back  for  another  glass 
of  the  stuff,  shan't  we,  William  ?  But  before  we  goes 
just  tell  us,  missus.  You've  been  a  wondering  what  on 
airth  makes  us  so  curious  about  the  cove  ;  now,  haven't 
you  ?  " 

Not  a  bit,  with  a  contemptuous  toss  of  the  pretty 
head.  She  had  other  things  to  think  of. 


ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  145 

"  Well,  missus,  there  ain't  no  mystery  in  it.  We're 
three  of  the  best  of  friends,  we  are  ;  me,  the  cove,  and 
William  there  ;  and  we  are  a  going'to  make  a  pedestrian 
tower  together ;  and  the  cove,  which  'is  name  is 
Anthony  Green,  if  so  be  as  you  might  like  to  know  it, 
missus  ;  though  I'll  be  bound — he  was  always  up  to  a 
joke,  was  Anthony — he  gave  you  another  for  the  fun 
of  it." 

"  He  gave  me  no  name  at  all,"  pouted  the  land 
lady,  "  and  I  didn't  ask  him  for  it.  He  paid  his  bill 
and  went  away  like  a  gentleman.  Anthony,  indeed  !  " 

"  Well,  it  ain't  a  purty  name,"  remarked  Josiah, 
*  but  what  can  a  cove  do  ?  A  cove  don't  give  himself 
his  own  name,  as  a  rule,  and  this  cove  didn't  for 
certain.  Now  did  he,  William  ?  " 

William,  who  had  been  regarding"  Josiah  with  open- 
eyed  admiration,  replied,  heading  his  remark  with 
something  quite  different,  "  That  he'd  be  blest  if  he 
did." 

"  Well,  good-day,  missus.  Two  hours  on  ahead, 
did  you  say  ?  Never  mind !  Me  and  William  is 
steady  on  our  pins,  and  we'll  ketch  him  up  in  next  to 
no  time.  Lor,  how  glad  I  shall  be  to  see  him  !  We  are 
so  fond  of  him,  ain't  we,  William  ?  Won't  we  hug 
him,  and  never  let  him  loose  again.  Now,  William, 
will  you  toddle,  or  will  you  not  ?  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
you,  standing  here  and  chattering  as  if  time  warn't 
of  no  importance,  we  should  have  been  a  good 
hour  further  on  the  road  by  this  time.  You  under 
stand  now,  missus,  why  we  was  so  curious  about  the 
cove." 

O  yes,  she  understood !  Better  far  than  either 
William  or  Josiah  fancied,  and  was  gone  full  trot  to 
tell  her  husband  all  about  it,  ere  the  two  cunning  ones 
were  quite  lost  sight  of  on  the  road. 

And  George,  the  male  factotum,  and  Eliza,  the 
female  one,  who  had  been  listening  to  the  conversation 
at  a  respectful  distance,  had  their  own  opinions  about 

L 


146          A   GREAT    MYSTERY   SOLVED 

it  too ;  which  opinions  they  began  to  impart  to  one 
another  as  soon  as  the  missus  was  out  of  hearing. 

"  Look  'ee  here,  Liz,  old  girl !  "  began  George,  laying 
a  massive  finger  by  the  side  of  his  massive  nose,  and 
winking  double  winks  of  supernatural  intelligence  at 
his  listener,  "  if  the  first  chap  hadn't  murder  writ 
on  his  face,  and  the  two  hothers  handcuffs,  then  my 
name  ain't  George,  which  my  godfathers  and  my  god 
mothers  did  give  me,  and  your  name  won't  never  be 
Mrs.  George,  which  it  shall  be,  if  you'll  say  the  word, 
old  girl,  and  give  us  a  buss  to  settle  it." 

Whereupon  Eliza,  who  had  been  looking  out  for 
ten  years  or  more  for  some  such  remark  from  George, 
and  was  quite  willing  to  give  both  word  and  "  buss," 
did  so  with  tremendous  emphasis  then  and  there,  and 
thus  to  these  two,  at  least,  the  ill-omened  visitors  had 
been  messengers  of  good-will  and  unity. 

All  unconscious  of  what  was  going  on  so  far  behind 
him,  John  Jasper,  who  had  wrestled  with  success 
against  the  weakness  threatening  to  overwhelm  him, 
went  on  again  apace.  Something  within  him  warned 
him  that  he  had  no  time  to  waste,  that  he  must  make 
the  best  use  of  the  strength  he  had,  before  it  deserted 
him  again.  Did  he  feel  danger  in  the  balmy  air  ?  Did 
he  scent  the  hounds  following  him  ? 

On,  on,  faster  than  ever.  He  had  something  of  the 
harassed,  anxious  look  of  one  hunted  by  this  time,  and 
drew  his  breath  in  short,  quick  gasps.  But  if  he  was 
pursued,  he  was  distancing  his  pursuers  every  moment. 
He  knew  of  a  dozen  short  cuts  through  fields  and 
lanes  which  they  did  not.  They  stopped  to  dine  on 
the  road ;  he  stopped  nowhere.  He  had  taken  the 
precaution  of  providing  himself  at  the  inn  with  cold 
meat  and  bread,  and  a  flask  of  brandy,  and  ate  and 
drank  on  the  road. 

On,  on,  with  the  bloodhounds  on  his  track.  They 
are  coming  on  with  noses  full  of  the  scent  of  him,  and 
in  the  right  direction  now.  They  are  far  behind  still, 


ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  147 

but  they  are  fresh  and  vigorous,  and  Heaven  help  him, 
or  his  own  master  the  Evil  One,  or  they  will  hunt  him 
down  after  all. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  he 
approached  Cloisterham,  and  saw  before  him  the  old 
square  tower  of  the  Cathedral  and  the  red-brick  houses, 
warm  and  glowing  in  the  sunshine. 

He  was  almost  exhausted,  but  seemed  to  gather 
new  courage  on  arriving  at  his  journey's  end.  He 
did  not  enter  the  city  by  the  direct  way,  but  skirted  it 
rather,  going  in  at  last  by  byways  and  alleys,  which  he 
knew  well,  and  where  he  met  hardly  anybody.  He  had 
drawn  his  felt  hat  low  over  his  eyes,  and  one  or  two 
whom  he  met,  and  whom  he  knew  slightly,  as  he  did 
almost  every  one  in  Cloisterham,  passed  him  by  as 
indifferently  as  if  he  had  been  the  stranger  he  would 
appear.  His  object  was  attained ;  a  casual  glance 
failed  to  recognise  him,  and  he  breathed  more  freely. 

Always  creeping  and  sidling  along,  he  emerged  at 
last  into  a  part  where  he  could  see  the  Cathedral  Close 
and  Minor  Canon  Corner,  yet  remain  himself  pretty 
secure  from  observation.  If  any  one  should  chance 
to  pass  him,  he  had  only  to  pretend  to  walk  on  quietly, 
and  return,  when  they  were  gone,  to  his  post  of  obser 
vation.  There  he  set  himself  to  wait  and  watch. 

Fixing  his  cruel  eyes  upon  the  house  inhabited  by  the 
Minor  Canon,  he  saw  that  fresh-faced  gentleman,  the 
personified  image  of  a  good  conscience  and  a  guileless 
heart,  issue  therefrom,  and  turn  his  steps  towards  the 
Cathedral.  He  saw  other  clergymen,  and  the  Dean  him 
self,  come  from  various  directions,  and  enter  the  sacred 
edifice.  He  saw  the  choir  boys  arrive,  rosy  and  noisy, 
jostling  and  treading  upon  one  another's  heels,  and 
with  difficulty  restrained  in  the  free  exercise  of  these 
boyish  ebullitions  by  the  grave  choir-master,  his  suc 
cessor.  He  saw  Mr.  Tope,  the  verger,  and  a  small 
congregation  enter,  too.  Finally,  he  heard  the  organ 
swell  and  rise,  and  the  fresh,  clear  treble  voices  of  the 


148          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

smaller  boys  join  the  deeper  ones  of  the  elders  in  a 
glorious  burst  of  melody,  which  seemed  as  if  it  floated 
up  to  the  gates  of  heaven. 

That  is  to  say,  he  saw  all  this  with  his  eyes  and  heard 
it  with  his  ears,  mechanically,  for  all  his  heart  and  all 
his  thoughts  were  concentrated  on  one  spot,  and  lost 
in  one  contemplation — the  Minor  Canon's  house,  and 
a  little  figure  there,  which  he  longed  to  see  pass  the 
threshold. 

At  last — at  last — he  had  been  waiting  about  an  hour, 
but  he  hardly  knew  himself  whether  it  had  been  an 
eternity  or  a  second — the  door  opened,  and  Rosa, 
dressed  for  walking,  came  out  alone.  He  had  made  up 
his  mind  that  he  might  have  to  wait  a  day — days 
perhaps — for  this  opportunity,  and  had  laid  his  plans 
accordingly ;  but  that  devil,  whom  he  served  so 
well,  had  worked  miracles  for  his  retainer,  and  had 
granted  him,  before  he  expected  it,  the  opportunity  he 
desired. 

He  had  not  looked  upon  that  lovely  face  in  the  flesh 
for  a  month — for  thirty  long  days — and  he  now  let  his 
longing  eyes — famished  for  want  of  her — take  their 
full,  and  feast  ravenously. 

She  was  pale,  he  thought,  and  thinner.  The  childish 
plumpness  had  vanished,  and  the  sweet  mouth  was 
drawn  down  slightly  at  the  corners— not  peevishly  or 
discontentedly  as  he  had  seen  it  often  in  the  old  times, 
when  it  had  been  his  blessed  privilege  to  sit  beside 
her,  but  as  if  weary  and  in  pain — and  as  her  wonderful 
eyes,  so  dark  and  soft,  looked  in  the  direction  where  he 
was  crouching,  he  fancied  they  shone  through  tears 
which  she  kept  back  with  effort. 

But  how  beautiful  she  was !  How  much  more 
beautiful  than  he  had  imagined  her.  If  the  bud  had 
given  glorious  promise,  the  wondrous  beauty  of  the 
opening  flower  exceeded  expectation.  He  fancied, 
looking  with  gloating  eyes  upon  her  loveliness,  that  he 
had  only  faintly  dreamed  of  it  before,  and  that  he  now, 


ON  THE  HIGH  ROAD  TO  CLOISTERHAM  149 

for  the  first  time,  really  felt  it — felt  it  like  a  sharp  knife 
wounding  every  fibre  of  his  quivering  heart. 

She  went  towards  the  river ;  he  always  following 
her,  climbing  up  towards  the  Monastery  ruin  as  he 
saw  that  she  intended  to  take  the  path  below,  and 
going  on  swiftly  and  noiselessly  until  he  had  attained 
a  point  where  he  could  descend  without  attracting  her 
observation,  and,  cowering  behind  a  few  stunted  bushes 
growing  there,  arrest  her  as  she  passed. 

As  she  came  slowly  on,  nearing  him  every  moment, 
the  passionate  beating  of  his  heart  almost  stifled  him, 
and  the  blood,  rushing  wildly  to  his  head,  blinded  him 
and  blotted  her  out  from  his  sight. 

Was  he  going  to  faint  again  ?  Was  he  going  to 
become  insensible,  and  lose  her,  now  that  he  was  almost 
certain  of  her  ?  He  must  compose  himself ;  must  turn 
away  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  for  the  sight  of  her  beauty 
intoxicated  him. 

He  swallowed  a  deep  draught  of  brandy,  and  looked 
back  along  the  path  which  he  had  taken,  and  then  saw 
that  there  was  some  one  there. 

A  tall,  lithe  man,  coming  along  as  he  had  done,  and 
looking  ever  and  anon  down  upon  the  fairy  figure  far 
below.  John  Jasper  knew  him — recognised  him  as  he 
came  nearer,  with  a  bitter  malediction.  No  chance 
passer-by ;  but  one  who  had  followed  her,  as  he 
had  followed,  and  with  the  same  intent.  It  was  the 
man  who  had  dared  to  look  love  at  her  in  London,  and 
whose  sentence,  if  a  successful  rival,  was — without 
mercy — Death. 

He  drew  out  the  revolver  which  he  had  brought  with 
him,  cocked  and  levelled  it ;  waited  in  breathless 
expectation,  keeping  him  covered  with  his  murderous 
weapon. 

On  came  Mr.  Tartar,  quickly  and  securely,  with  a 
light,  elastic  step,  little  dreaming  that  his  life  hung  by 
a  thread ;  while  John  Jasper,  alternately  watching 
him  and  the  girl  below,  with  murder  in  his  heart,  and 


150          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

the  means  of  committing  murder  in  his  hand,  waited 
for  his  coming. 

Suddenly  the  sea-lieutenant  began  to  descend  :  the 
murderer  crouching  there  might  have  carried  into 
execution  his  evil  purpose  many  times  during  this 
descent,  but  he  hesitated  still,  knowing  that  he  had 
him  always  in  his  power,  and  fearing  that  the  noise  of 
the  discharge  might  be  heard,  and  baffle  his  plans. 

He  waited,  therefore,  to  note  the  result  of  the  inter 
view  ;  and  thus  became  a  witness  to  what  passed 
below  between  the  two — ah !  so  unconscious  of  this 
deadly  neighbour  1 

He  was  too  far  up,  and  too  far  in  advance,  to  hear  all 
they  said,  but  he  understood  its  import.  If  the  sea- 
lieutenant  had  kissed  the  sweet  lips  of  the  girl,  his 
mad  jealousy  might  have  gained  the  victory  over  his 
prudence,  and  he  might  have  shot  him  dead  where  he 
stood ;  but  at  the  close  of  the  interview,  he  only  touched 
her  hand  with  his  lips  as  they  parted,  and  left  her 
behind  alone. 

Rapture  indescribable  !  Bliss  unutterable  !  Alone 
and  in  his  power  ! 


CHAPTER   XIV 

JOURNEYS    END    IN    LOVERS'    MEETING 

MR.  TARTAR  had  gone  away  from  Rosa  in  an  uneasy 
and  ever-increasing  solicitude  concerning  her,  which 
seemed,  for  the  moment,  to  overbalance  his  deep  sorrow 
and  disapppointment.  He  had  barely  left  her,  in 
obedience  to  her  repeated  request  that  he  would  do  so, 
before  he  blamed  himself  severely  for  having  yielded 
to  it ;  and  would  have  retraced  his  steps,  had  he  not 
feared  to  cause  her  pain  and  annoyance.  But  she 
was  accustomed  to  walk  alone  The  country  was  not 
like  London,  and  she  was  close  to  the  town.  Every 
object  was  brilliantly  illuminated  by  the  moonlight, 
and  besides,  who  would  think  of  harming  her  ?  He 
met  Mr.  Crisparkle  at  the  door,  who  taking  him  by  the 
arm,  said  :  "I  have  received  a  most  mysterious  letter 
from  Mr.  Grewgious,  informing  me  that  he  is  coming 
down  to  Cloisterham  this  evening,  accompanied  by 
Neville  and  Hel — Miss  Landless,  and  begging  me  to 
meet  them  at  the  omnibus,  as  he  has  some  startling 
communication  to  make  to  me.  Ma  is  busy  with 
preparations  for  the  arrival  of  our  guests ;  she  will 
find  room  for  Miss  Landless,  who  will  like  to  be  with  her 
friend,  but  the  gentlemen  will  have  to  lodge  at  the 
Crozier,  for  our  little  nest  in  Minor  Canon  Corner  is  not 
large  enough  to  hold  all." 

"  They  can  have  my  room,"  said  Mr.  Tartar.  "  I 
will  lodge  at  the  Crozier  to-night,  and  must  go  up  to 
London  early  in  the  morning.  It  will  be  a  good 
excuse,  Crisparkle.  You  guess  what  has  happened." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right,  Tartar,"  answered  his 


152          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

friend,  "  and  that  I  should  do  the  same  in  your  position, 
though  I'm  sorry  to  part  with  you  so,  old  fellow  !  " 

The  Minor  Canon  laid  his  arm  affectionately  round 
the  shoulder  of  the  young  man,  but  only  through  this 

ving  action  gave  expression  to  his  sympathy.  He 
knew  how  cruel  was  the  conflict  in  which  his  friend  was 
engaged,  and  how  barren  and  unfruitful  words  of 
comfort  are  at  such  a  moment.  Only  love  and  time 
can  heal  such  wounds  as  these. 

Duly — a  little  delayed  perhaps  by  Mr.  Tartar's  con 
fidences — they  arrived  at  the  spot  where  the  omnibus 
was  expected,  and  found  they  had  still  some  minutes 
to  spare.  In  a  very  little  while,  however,  before  they 
had  time  or  reasonable  cause  to  grow  impatient,  the 
crack  of  Joe's  whip  was  heard,  and  at  full  trot,  with  a 
rush  and  a  rattle,  up  dashed  the  horses  to  the  spot 
where  they  were  waiting. 

The  three  expected  were  there,  inside.  Mr.  Cris- 
parkle  saw  them  first.  Had  the  recital  of  his  friend's 
sufferings  affected  the  good  man  so  much,  and  was  it 
only  sympathy  for  him  which  made  the  Minor  Canon's 
face  flush  so  hotly,  his  strong  hand  tremble,  his  eye 
soften  with  emotion  ?  Alas,  poor  Mr.  Tartar,  mournful 
and  subdued  in  the  background,  feeling  himself  sadly 
in  the  way,  and  yet  hardly  knowing  how  to  beat  a 
retreat,  was  as  completely  forgotten,  as  he  was  com 
pletely  lost  sight  of,  for  the  time  !  For  the  Minor 
Canon  was  raising  his  hat,  and  looking  with  all  his  eyes 
and  all  his  heart  at  a  young  lady's  face,  framed  in  by 
the  old  coach  window  ;  while  the  proud  beauty  blush- 
ingly  returned  his  salute  ;  her  brilliant  eyes  drooping, 
and  her  face  softening  into  sweet  humility  as  she  did  so. 

After  the  usual  greetings,  Mr.  Crisparkle  offered  his 
arm  to  Helena,  who,  radiant  and  bewildered,  appeared 
so  strangely  transformed  to  her  pale  brother,  that  he 
looked  at  her  in  wonder,  and  almost  in  alarm.  As  for 
the  Minor  Canon,  he,  with  unwonted  inconsiderateness, 
was  so  engrossed  in  contemplating,  with  a  sort  of 


JOURNEYS  END   IN   LOVERS1   MEETING    153 

rapturous  awe,  the  blushing  face  beside  him,  as  barely 
to  notice  how  sharp  and  pale  was  his  pupil's,  and 
how  worn  and  wasted  the  young  manyooked.  Long 
continued  mental  anxiety  and  suffering  had  been  doing 
their  work  too  surely,  and  Mr.  Grewgious'  kind  heart 
bled  as  he  observed  what  ravages  they  had  wrought 
on  the  poor  lad's  frame. 

"  Take  my  arm,  Mr.  Neville,"  he  said,  noticing  and 
perhaps  dimly  comprehending  Mr.  Crisparkle's  un 
accountable  absence  of  mind,  "and  lean  your  whole 
weight  upon  it.  You  don't  look  over-strong,  and  I'm 
as  strong  as  a  horse.  I'm  an  angular  man,  and  my  arm 
naturally  partakes  of  this  quality,  but  I'm  able  and 
willing." 

Neville  laughed ;  such  a  thin,  poor,  puny  laugh  ! 
It  had  not  strength  to  stand  upon  its  legs,  but  fell 
faint,  and  died  by  reason  of  its  weakness.  But  he  felt 
so  unusually  bright  and  well  this  evening — unusually 
so  for  him,  poor  fellow  ! — and  so  calm  and  contented. 
Cloisterham  looked  so  beautiful  and  full  of  peace.  He 
had  first  seen  it  in  the  moonlight,  and  now  once  more 
the  moon's  mild  beams  shed  their  calm,  sweet  light  on 
all  around.  He  no  longer  felt  himself  an  outcast ;  it 
seemed  to  him — why,  he  did  not  know — as  if  he  need 
be  no  longer  shunned  and  avoided  by  his  race.  He  had 
been  so  afraid  to  come  back,  and~only  persuaded  to  do 
so  by  the  united  persuasions  of  his  sister  and  Mr. 
Grewgious,  but  now  all  fear  was  gone.  He  no  longer 
dreaded  to  meet  old  acquaintances,  nor  would  have 
gone  out  of  his  way  to  avoid  them.  He  had  sinned 
much,  been  harsh  and  unforgiving  many  times,  way 
ward  and  passionate.  He  had  had  murder  in  his 
heart,  and  fierce  anger,  and  he  had  been  punished  for 
it  justly  ;  but  of  the  crime  laid  to  his  charge  he  was 
innocent,  and  God  knew  it,  and  his  fellow-men  would 
know  it,  in  God's  time.  He  could  kiss  the  rod,  and 
submit  meekly  to  his  chastisement,  for  he  was  forgiven 
— he  knew  he  was  forgiven.  How  sweet  was  the  fresh 


154         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

air,  after  the  dust  and  smoke  of  London  !  how  glad  he 
was  to  breathe  it  once  more. 

Mr.  Crisparkle  and  Helena  were  ahead,  exchanging  a 
word  or  two  now  and  then,  but  satisfied,  for  the  present, 
in  being  so  near  together,  arm  in  arm — the  throbbings  of 
his  heart  awakening  echoes  in  hers.  But  the  girl's  face 
grew  grave  as  they  approached  Minor  Canon  Corner, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  the  Revd.  Septimus 
wished  that  dear  home  were  further  away. 

They  all  went  into  the  house,  bright  and  warm  to 
welcome  them,  with  its  cheery  little  hostess,  a  beaming 
image  of  hospitality,  awaiting  them  in  the  hall — all 
except,  of  course,  poor,  forlorn  Mr.  Tartar,  who  crept 
away,  as  the  door  closed  upon  him,  with  an  aching  heart. 
Nobody  cared  for  him  !  His  friend  had  forgotten  him 
quite,  and  they  were  all  indifferent  to  his  sufferings ! 
He  peered  into  the  lighted  rooms,  but  saw  no  Rosa. 
Even  this  last  comfort  was  denied  him.  Had  it  been 
a  sin  to  love  her,  that  he  was  punished  for  it  so  remorse 
lessly?  He  had  just  turned  to  go  back  to  the  Inn, 
almost  wishing  he  could  lie  down  and  die  by  the  way, 
when  the  door  burst  open  again,  and  the  Minor  Canon 
came  out,  pale  and  horror-struck. 

"  Is  that  you,  Tartar  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Rosa  has  not 
come  back.  She  is  alone,  Tartar — at  this  time  of  night 
— alone  by  the  river." 

And  without  another  word,  the  two  men  set  off, 
running  at  full  speed. 


CHAPTER   XV 

A   BRUTAL  SUITOR 

ROSA  had  sunk  down  on  a  little  rustic  seat  under  the  hill 
side,  on  Mr.  Tartar's  departure,  and  given  full  vent  again 
to  her  feelings  in  a  renewed  burst  of  grief.  Her  pocket- 
handkerchief  was  wet  when  she  stopped  exhausted, 
and  the  fountain  whence  flowed  her  tears  had  run  dry, 
and  would  yield  no  more  for  the  present.  She  had 
tried  so  hard  to  prevent  this  acknowledgment  of  love 
on  the  part  of  the  sea-lieutenant,  which  her  duty — or 
her  duty  as  she  believed  it — forbade  her  to  return. 
What  she  might  have  done  under  other  circumstances  ? 
Whether  she  might  have  learned  to  love  him  ? 
Whether  she  did  love  him  in  her  inmost  heart  ? — all 
these  were  questions  which  she  dared  neither  review 
nor  contemplate,  and  she  put  them  away  from  her  with 
strong  effort  and  determination.  He  was  so  handsome 
and  so  manly  ;  so  worthy  of  love,  and  of  a  woman's 
deep  and  undivided  affection ;  so  generous  and  so  noble ; 
so  gentle  and  so  strong  (these  two  last  qualities  alone 
are  almost  irresistible  in  the  eyes  of  a  woman),  that  she 
avoided,  with  a  sort  of  fear,  all  thought  of  him,  and 
did  her  utmost  to  forget  him  altogether,  as  far  as 
possible.  It  was  this  feeling  of  doubt  in  herself, 
more  than  doubt  in  him,  which  had  prompted  her 
to  say  that  they  must  never  meet  again:  although, 
as  she  reflected  now  with  shame  and  distress,  she 
had  no  right  whatever  to  dictate  to  him,  and  that 
having  declined  to  accept  his  love,  she  had  been 
guilty  of  great  presumption  in  so  doing,  and  had 
virtually  banished  him  from  the  home  which  was  hers 


156          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

for  the  present,  and  which  was  also  the  home  of  his 
friend. 

With  a  sigh  and  a  tear  for  her  own  indiscretion,  she 
began  to  reflect  mournfully  upon  what  a  poor  gift 
beauty  was  after  all,  and  how  much  suffering  it  entailed 
— suffering  for  its  unfortunate  possessor,  and  suffering 
for  those  attracted  by  it. 

Whatever  faults  poor  Rosa  had,  she  was  honest  and 
true,  and  her  bright  eyes  could  not  but  see,  for  they 
were  keen  and  sharp  as  well  as  bright,  that  she  had 
beauty. 

She  had  been  undisputedly  the  queen  at  Miss 
Twinkleton's,  and  even  the  advent  of  that  brilliant 
star,  Miss  Landless,  could  not  shake  the  allegiance  of  the 
pupils  in  the  Nun's  House  to  their  chosen  one.  It  had 
occasioned  a  panic  among  the  young  ladies  when  Miss 
Giggles — about  as  unaesthetical  a  young  person  as  ever 
lived — had  declared  openly  in  the  "  apartment  allotted 
to  study,"  that,  for  her  part,  she  considered  Helena  to 
the  full  as  handsome  as  Rosa,  and  that  she  did  not 
admire  little  women.  Then  and  there  had  Miss'Giggles 
been  transported  to  Coventry,  and  accompanied  thither 
by  every  mark  *  of  opprobrium  and  ignominy  ;  Miss 
Ferdinand  in  particular — a  most  ardent  admirer  of 
little  Rosa — strictly  keeping  her  vow  of  not  speaking 
to  her  for  a  whole  week.  Not  that  Rosa  herself  had 
ever  felt  the  least  bit  jealous  of  her  friend,  but  was 
always  her  most  sincere  advocate,  and  admired  her  with 
her  whole  heart.  >> 

But  how  many  a  time  she  had  felt  proud  and  glad  to 
be  so  pretty  ;  how  many  a  time,  she  had 'smiled  back 
well  content  at  her  own  image  in  the  glass  ;  how  many 
a  time,  she  had  triumphed  in  the  reflection  that  every 
eye  falling  upon  her  must  be  pleased  and  satisfied ;  and 
how  often  she  had  pitied  other  girls  less  favoured  than 
she  ;  had  shown  Miss  Jones  little  attentions  and  kind 
nesses,  because,  poor  girl !  she  had  red  hair  and 
freckled  skin,  and  had  even  sought  out  Miss  Giggles 


A   BRUTAL   SUITOR  157 

in  Coventry,  with  her  snub  nose  and  wide  mouth,  and 
petted  and  consoled  her  there. 

And  poor  innocent  Rosa,  with  her  tender  conscience 
and  her  loving  heart,  fancied,  even  as  she  had  done 
before  at  Brighton,  as  she  sat  weeping  all  alone  by  the 
river  in  the  moonlight,  that  she  had  been  to  blame 
somehow  for  her  beauty ;  that  she  had  petted  and 
rejoiced  in  it,  as  if  it  were  a  virtue ;  that  she  had  tried 
to  enhance  it  with  fine  clothes  and  bright  ribbons,  and 
other  foolish  vanities,  and,  with  bowed  head  and  heart, 
believed  God  was  punishing  her  for  this.  Oh,  how  she 
envied  others  who  had  been  spared  this  temptation ; 
how  gladly  she  would  have  resigned  it ;  how  despicable 
it  appeared  to  her  at  this  moment. 

She  raised  her  hot  face  to  the  peaceful  sky,  and  let 
the  cool  breeze  of  the  evening  fan  it,  as  she  clasped  her 
hands  and  prayed  fervently  to  her  Father  in  Heaven, 
that  He  would  punish  and  forgive  her  (but  not  let 
others  suffer  for  her  sins),  and  show  her,  in  His  love 
and  mercy,  what  she  ought  to  do — that  He  would 
teach  her  what  was  right ,  and  give  her  strength  to 
doit. 

That  appeal  to  God  calmed  and  comforted  her  more 
than  anything  else  could  have  done,  and  she  began  to 
think  it  was  time  she  went  home,  or  she  would  cause 
kind  Mrs.  Crisparkle  needless  anxiety  on  her  account. 
She  would  just  take  one  more  turn  by  the  river  to  cool 
her  flushed  cheeks  and  dry  her  wet  eyes,  and  then  she 
would  hasten  back  to  Minor  Canon  Corner. 

How  peaceful  and  soothing  was  the  aspect  of  the 
landscape ;  how  brilliant  was  the  moonshine ;  how 
calm  the  face  of  Nature  ! 

She  got  up,  and  began  to  walk  along  the  bank  of  the 
river  as  she  had  done  before.  The  elasticity  of  youth, 
and  a  naturally  buoyant  nature,  could  not  fail  to  assert 
itself,  and  rose,  ultimately,  superior  to  the  depression 
which  had  almost  mastered  it.  God  would  show  her 
some  way  of  escape  out  of  this  labyrinth  ;  she  was  sure 


158          A    GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

He  would.  She  had  put  her  case  in  His  hands,  and 
could  patiently  await  His  will. 

O,  dear !  how  far  she  had  wandered,  and  how 
thoughtless  she  had  been  !  She  must  run  for  it  now, 
or  Mrs.  Crisparkle  would  never  let  her  go  out  to  walk 
alone  any  more.  She  pushed  back  the  clustering  hair 
from  her  hot  forehead,  drew  her  hat  further  over  her 
eyes,  and  began  to  hasten  homewards. 

What  was  that  rustling  in  the  bushes  behind  her  ? 
A  bird — a  rabbit  ?  No,  a  man  !  A  solitary  pedestrian 
coming  on  rapidly.  She  wondered  that  she  had  not 
heard  or  seen  him  before,  but  she  had  been  lost  in  her 
reflections.  Still  unalarmed,  she  drew  aside  to  let  him 
pass,  for  he  was  gaining  on  her  swiftly. 

But  he  did  not  pass,  as  she  expected.  He  stood  still 
as  he  came  up  beside  her,  regarding  her  silently,  with 
dark  eyes  gleaming  fire. 

"  What  was  the  meaning  of  this  ?  Why  did  the 
man  look  at  her  in  that  strange  and  awful  manner  ?  " 
she  asked  herself  with  beating  heart.  For  an  instant 
her  terrified  gaze  met  his  with  wonder  and  amaze ; 
then  she  recognised  him,  with  a  wild  shriek  of  terror. 

But  before  her  cry  for  help  could  ring  out  into  the 
clear  night  air,  he  had  smothered  it  with  his  hand  upon 
her  mouth,  which  he  held  there,  until  he  felt  that  she 
was  silent. 

"  Don't  scream,  don't  be  frightened,  my  beauty ! 
It  is  I !  "  he  said,  "I,  who  love  you,  who  adore  you. 
No,  don't  scream,  beloved,  or  I  must  stop  your  mouth 
again  ;  not  with  my  rough  hand — pardon  me  if  I  have 
hurt  you — but  with  something  softer,  sweet  one ! — 
with  a  kiss." 

In  an  agony  of  horror  and  alarm,  which  whitened 
her  face  even  to  the  trembling  lips,  she  nevertheless 
struggled  successfully  against  the  feeling  of  deadly 
faintness  which  threatened  to  lay  her  at  his  feet,  and 
looked  despairingly  backwards  and  forwards  along 
the  path  upon  which  they  were  standing,  up  the  hill- 


A   BRUTAL   SUITOR  159 

side  and  over  the  misty  river,  but  saw  no  one  to  help 
her.  Strange  to  say — or,  rather,  not  strange,  for  it  is  a 
proved  fact  that  the  intrepidity  of  many  a  woman 
grows  with  the  magnitude  of  the  demand  upon  it,  in  a 
manner  unexpected  and  unlocked  for — this  helplessness 
— this  being  cast  entirely  upon  her  own  resources,  did 
not  rob  her  of  her  courage,  but  gave  it  back  to  her 
tenfold. 

With  high  spirit — always  dwelling  latent  in  her, 
but  which,  as  yet,  had  been  uncalled  for  and  unneeded 
in  her  sheltered  and  protected  life — and  with  ready 
appreciation  of  the  danger  which  would  increase  if  she 
lost  her  presence  of  mind,  and  gave  way  to  her  natural 
alarm  before  this  madman,  she  faced  him  no  longer 
tremblingly,  but  dauntlessly  ;  and,  like  Una  with  the 
savage  lion,  shielded  by  her  own  spotless  innocence  and 
purity,  dared  him  to  approach  her,  or  to  touch  her 
again. 

He  was  contemplating  her  with  a  gloating  rapture — 
which  sickened  her  once  more — and  was  murmuring — 

"A  kiss,  beloved!  Only  one  kiss!  No  more  till 
we  have  spoken.  I  have  kissed  you  a  million  times 
in  my  dreams,  but  what  is  a  dream  to  the  reality  ? 
Give  me  one — give  me  one,  for  I  am  hungering  and 
famishing  for  want  of  it,  and  must  die  if  you  refuse 
me." 

"  Never  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  gesture  of  unspeak 
able  loathing  and  abhorrence,  drawing  back  as  he 
approached  her,  and  she  felt  his  hot  breath  upon  her 
cheek,  but  always  keeping  her  steady  eyes  upon 
him.  "  How  can  you  be  so  base,  and  mean,  and 
cowardly,  as  thus  to  pursue  a  helpless  girl  ?  Is  that  the 
way  to  win  love  or  respect  ?  Pass  on,  and  cease  to 
persecute  me  ;  you  have  had  your  answer,  what  further 
do  you  want  of  me  ?  " 

"  You  yourself,  my  darling  !  Nothing  more  ;  but, 
by  all  the  devils  in  hell,  I  swear  to  you,  nothing  less. 
Give  me  one  kiss,  my  angel !  that  I  may  live  and  be  a 


i6o          A    GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

man  again.  I  saw  your  other  lover  go  away  just  now. 
You  were  less  scrupulous  and  prudish  with  him.  You 
kissed  him,  beloved." 

"  It  is  a  wicked  lie,"  she  cried  indignantly,  "  I  did 
not." 

"  No,  you  did  not,"  he  answered,  with  a  curling 
lip,  "  well  for  him  that  you  did  not !  He  would  never 
have  gone  back  alive  to  Cloisterham  if  you  had.  I 
could  never  have  looked  on  and  borne  that,  with  his 
life  in  my  hand.  I  had  him  covered  with  my  weapon, 
and  should  have  killed  him,  had  he  dared  to  touch  your 
lips." 

Even  in  the  midst  of  this  terrible  scene,  so  awful 
that  it  seemed  to  Rosa  as  if  it  could  not  be  real,  but 
mustjjbe  a  fearful  nightmare  from  which  she  would 
awake,  her  heart  bounded  with  joy  as  she  heard  this, 
and  knew  that  he  was  out  of  danger  now.  Even  in  the 
midst  of  this  mortal  agony,  she  uttered  a  prayer  of 
fervent  thanks  and  heartfelt  gratitude  to  God,  who 
had  enabled  her  to  resist  that  temptation,  to  do  what 
she  had  believed  to  be  right,  and  so  to  have  been  the 
unconscious  instrument  in  saving  him. 

"  Listen,"  she  said,  raising  her  small  hand,  and 
drawing  her  little  figure  up  to  its  full  height ;  the  pallor 
of  her  face,  and  the  solemn  look  in  her  dark  eyes,  making 
her  appear  almost  like  a  spirit  in  the  moonlight.  "  Let 
us  be  patient  with  one  another  !  Let  us  speak  like 
reasonable  beings  over  our  hard  fate  !  A  strange  and 
unaccountable  destiny  has  ordained  that  you  should 
love  me  (she  brought  out  the  word  love  with  a  shudder 
which  she  could  not  repress),  and  the  same  destiny 
has  ordained  that  I — that  I  should  not  be  able  to  return 
the  feeling.  This  is  how  the  case  stands.  Is  it  not 
so?  " 

"Go  on,"  he  murmured,  regarding  her  with  fierce 
delight,  "  go  on,  most  beautiful  of  women  !  peerless 
among  your  sex  !  and  I  will  listen.  If  you  bid  me, 
I  will  wait  for  my  reward.  I  have  waited — years — 


A    BRUTAL   SUITOR  161 

centuries,  and  I  can  wait  a  few  minutes  longer.  There 
are  no  commands,  save  one,  issuing  from  those  lovely 
lips  that  I  would  not  obey." 

"I  am  willing,"  she  continued,  faintly,  for  her 
courage  was  giving  way  under  the  strain  upon  it,  and 
ebbing  fast,  as  she  noticed  how  little  effect  her  words 
were  producing,  **  to  meet  you  half  way,  and  to  bear 
my  share  of  the  suffering  to  which  we  are  condemned. 
I  promise  you,  if  you  will  abandon  your  pursuit  of  me — 
which  makes  me  wretched,  and  which  can  be  productive 
of  no  other  result  to  you — by  my  most  sacred  word  and 
honour,  to  remain  single  all  my  life,  to  accept  no  man 
as  a  suitor  or  a  husband,  and,  in  this  way,  to  give  you 
no  reason  for  hatred  or  jealousy,  only  begging  you  to 
leave  me  undisturbed  to  my  solitary  life  and  lonely 
fate,  to  which  your  love  will  have  consigned  me." 

There  was  no  quaver  in  her  voice,  nor  tear  in  her  eye, 
as  she  concluded  this  proposal ;  no  shrinking  back  from 
this  sacrifice,  this  laying  down  of  her  young  life  upon 
the  altar  of  his  remorseless  love,  worse  than  any  hate  ; 
and  she  looked  at  him  gravely  and  steadily,  awaiting 
his  reply. 

What  she  said  seemed  to  have  made  some  impression 
on  him.  When  he  spoke  again,  his  voice  had  lost 
its  wildness,  and  was  subdued  into  a  tone  of  quieter 
persuasion. 

"  Ask  me  anything  but  that,"  he  said,  "  and  I  will 
grant  it ;  make  any  other  request,  wish  for  anything 
else,  and  if  it  be  within  the  range  of  human  possibility 
to  obtain  it,  it  shall  be  yours  ;  but  this  is  impossible. 
I  cannot  give  you  up,  even  if  I  would.  The  ties  which 
bind  me  to  you  are  too  strong  for  any  power  to  rend. 
Now  listen  to  my  proposal.  Stay !  you  must  hear  it ! 
I  will  be  your  humblest  vassal  in  all  else,  but  now  I 
must  compel  you.  I  have  been  a  moody,  envious, 
wicked  man,  beloved — all  for  you.  I  will  be  cheerful, 
happy,  contented,  if  you  will  take  me — all  for  you 
again.  I  have  let  talent,  genius,  ambition  rust  away 

M 


162          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

in  that  accursed  nest  yonder,  only  to  be  near  you,  Rosa  ; 
I  will  now  use  the  abilities  which  have  been  given  me, 
make  a  great  name  ;  attain  honour  and  riches — only 
to  lay  them  at  your  worshipped  feet.  In  the  great, 
free  country  over  the  water,  where  every  man  is  valued 
according  to  what  is  in  him,  and  not  for  what  he  hap 
pens  to  have  been  born,  or  for  what  he  has  amassed, 
there  we  will  go  together.  Everything  is  ready.  I 
will  become  a  king  among  men,  only  to  make  you  my 
queen,  and  bow  down  and  worship  you.  Speak,  Rosa, 
and  say  you  will  go  with  me  of  your  own  free  will, 
or " 

"  Or  what  ?  "  she  asked.  She  felt  her  senses  were 
deserting  her,  and  looked  round  wildly  and  despair 
ingly. 

"  Or  I  must  use  violence,  and  take  you  with  me  by 
force.  It  is  your  last  chance  ;  speak,  Rosa  !  "  And 
he  flung  himself  upon  his  knees  before  her,  pressing  his 
lips  upon  her  feet. 

She  made  one  more  effort  as  she  staggered  back. 

"  Do  not  touch  me.  I — I  know  your  secret.  I  have 
kept  it.  I  will  keep  it,  and  pray  for  your  forgiveness. 
How  can  I  clasp  the  hand  of  a  murderer  ?  Oh,  God, 
do  not  desert  me  !  " 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  laughed  aloud. 

"  All  the  more  reason  never  to  let  you  go,  my  beauty  ! 
All  the  more  reason  for  keeping  you  safe  and  sure/' 

But  as  he  stretched  out  his  arms  to  encircle  her  in 
his  embrace,  they  both  heard  through  the  still  night, 
footsteps,  as  of  men  running,  and  the  next  moment  the 
echoes  repeated  Rosa's  piercing  shriek  for  help. 

He  alone  heard  the  answer.  "  We  are  coming,  Rosa ; 
we  are  coming  "  ;  for  night  encompassed  the  girl's 
senses,  and  she  sank  down  unconscious. 
|  Like  those  of  a  wild  beast  brought  to  bay,  the  fierce 
eyes  of  the  desperate  man  glared  in  the  direction 
whence  the  sounds  proceeded,  for  he  was  uncertain 
what  course  to  pursue.  He  listened  intently  ;  if  only 


A   BRUTAL   SUITOR  163 

one  man  were  coming  to  the  rescue  he  might  shoot  him 
down  and  take  her  with  him  still ;  but  the  words  which 
had  been  uttered  by  Mr.  Crisparkle — -he  had  recognised 
the  voice — had  been  :  "  We  are  coming." 

There  were  two,  or  perhaps  more,  pursuers  then, 
unless  the  words  had  been  used  as  a  feint  to  terrify  him, 
and  induce  him  to  abandon  her.  He  would  have 
wrestled  with  Mr.  Crisparkle,  or  any  two  men  even, 
in  his  present  state  of  passion  and  strong  nervous 
excitement ;  but  numbers  must  overpower  him  in  the 
end,  and  tear  away  his  precious  prize,  now  that  he 
possessed  it. 

The  girl  was  quiet  and  lifeless,  and  could  be  carried 
like  a  baby  ;  the  deep  swoon  which  had  overpowered 
her,  would  prevent  any  further  struggle  or  resistance 
on  her  part,  and  he  might  even  yet,  favoured  by  the 
night,  fly  with  her  and  hide  her.  It  was  worth  trying, 
at  any  rate,  and  fortune  favoured  the  determined. 

All  these  thoughts  passed  through  his  mind  like  a 
flash  of  lightning,  as  he  stooped  and  raised  the  lifeless 
form  of  the  girl,  pressing  it — even  in  that  dread  moment, 
when  the  exercise  of  his  keenest  faculties  and  highest 
bodily  strength  were  imperative  for  his  safety,  and  the 
carrying  out  of  his  designs — with  wild  passion  to  his 
heart. 

For  the  first  time  he  held  her  in  his  arms  and  encircled 
her  in  his  embrace.  The  contact  seemed  to  fill  his 
veins  with  living  fire,  and  to  give  him  strength  to 
combat  with  twenty  for  her  possession,  and  to  conquer 
one  and  all. 

Swiftly  and  noiselessly  he  fled  along  the  path  by  the 
river,  leaving  Mr.  Crisparkle,  one  of  the  swiftest  run 
ners  in  Cloisterham,  who  had  caught  sight  of  the  two, 
and  was  calling~out  to  him  to  stop  and  surrender  himself 
for  God's  sake,  far  behind  again. 

But  his  strength  deserted  him  as  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly  as  it  had  done  the  day  before  ;  his  knees 
shook  and  trembled  under  him  ;  leaden  weights  seemed 


164          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

to  hang  upon  his  feet  and  ankles  ;  he  gasped  for  breath, 
but  found  none  ;  stumbled  and  fell  with  his  burden. 

He  was  on  his  feet  again  in  a  moment,  and  staggering 
on  once  more  ;  but  he  felt  and  knew  that  all  was  over. 
In  another  minute  or  two,  the  Minor  Canon,  coming 
on  like  the  wind,  would  gain  upon  him,  and  all  power 
of  grappling  with  him  was  lost  and  gone. 

With  a  wild  curse  for  the  master  whom  he  had  served 
so  long,  and  who  had  deserted  him  at  this  crisis,  he 
imagined  himself  run  down  ;  the  girl  torn  from  him,  to 
be  happy  with  another,  and  to  detest  his  memory  and 
mock  his  hopeless  love  ;  he  himself  delivered  over  to 
justice,  to  be  punished  with  the  rigour  of  the  laws  of 
God  and  man,  against  which  he  had  sinned  so  fatally. 

Never !  Never !  If  she  could  not  be  his  in  life, 
she  should  be  his  in  death.  He  would  not  be  able  to 
lie  quiet  in  the  grave,  knowing  her  in  the  arms  of  a  rival. 

With  sudden  impulse,  he  sprang  up  the  bank  of  the 
river,  and  standing  upon  its  brink,  looked  back  towards 
his  pursuers,  and  then  down  upon  the  lovely  face 
resting  on  his  shoulder. 

He  had  never  seen  it  so  beautiful,  he  fancied.  No, 
not  even  when  flushed  with  health  and  happiness.  Her 
bright  luxuriant  hair  hung  over  his  arm  and  framed  a 
face,  pale  as  death,  and  chaste  and  pure  as  marble. 

Tenderly,  almost  reverently,  he  stroked  back  the  soft, 
clinging  curls,  and  let  his  eyes  feast  for  the  last  time  in 
contemplation  of  her  beauty — beauty  which  had 
brought  them  both  to  this — to  this. 

Then  he  bowed  his  head,  and  pressed  convulsively  his 
burning,  passionate  lips  on  her  pure  cold  ones  ;  raised 
her  high  in  the  air  in  full  sight  of  his  pursuers,  who 
stood  still,  paralysed  with  terror ;  clasped  her  to 
his  heart  again ;  and  with  a  wild  cry  of  defiance  and 
exultation,  sprang  with  her  into  the  river. 

High  up  splashed  countless  drops  as  they  fell  together. 
Wide  and  broad  circled  the  eddies.  Then  all  was  quiet 
and  peaceful  once  more.  With  calm  and  untroubled 


A    BRUTAL   SUITOR  165 

smile  the  bright  moon  looked  down  upon  the  spot  where 
the  crime  had  been  committed,  and  undisturbed  over 
the  placid  river,  flowing  smoothly  towards  the  ocean, 
lay  the  autumn  mist. 

The  Minor  Canon  had  quickly  recovered  his  presence 
of  mind,  lost  for  one  moment  in  the  contemplation  of 
this  terrible  scene,  and,  throwing  off  his  coat,  dashed 
up  the  bank,  and  ran  along  it,  in  hopes  of  seeing  the 
bodies  rise,  and  being  in  time  to  arrest  them  on  their 
fatal  course  ;  but  he  was  too  late. 

They  rose,  indeed,  but  further  down,  beyond  him, 
and  notwithstanding  his  utmost  efforts,  he  felt  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  to  reach  the  spot,  where 
they  might  be  expected  to  rise  again,  in  time  to  save 
them.  With  a  fervour  with  which  he  had  hardly  ever 
prayed — good  and  religious  man  though  he  was — he 
implored  the  All-powerful  to  interpose,  for  human  aid 
was  vain. 

As  if  a  miracle  had  been  worked  in  answer  to  his 
passionate  supplication,  his  sharp  eyes,  sharpened 
with  anxiety,  saw  another  man  further  down  on  the 
bank,  looking  eagerly,  as  it  appeared,  into  the  river. 
And  a  moment  later,  as  the  bodies  rose  again,  he  heard 
the  splash  with  which  the  stranger  cleft  the  water. 

He  saw  him  (still  running  as  fast  as  his  legs  would 
carry  him)  seize  the  girl's  long  hair  and  twine  it  round 
his  hand.  But  the  tide  was  running  out,  and  the 
weight  of  the  two  bodies,  so  closely  interlocked  that 
there  was  no  separating  them,  proved  too  great  for 
the  strength  of  their  deliverer  ;  he  struggled  bravely, 
but  unsuccessfully,  to  swim  with  them  to  the  shore, 
and  cried  out  for  help. 

"  Hold  them  till  I  come,  for  the  love  of  God,"  cried 
back  Mr.  Crisparkle,  springing  into  the  water,  and 
striking  out,  like  the  famous  swimmer  that  he  was. 

He  was  only  just  in  time,  for,  with  the  girl's  hair 
still  entwined  in  his  hand,  the  rescuer  had  been  forced 
to  succumb,  and  it  was  three  lifeless  bodies  which  the 


166          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

Minor  Canon,  with  the  utmost  exertion,  and  assisted  by 
Mr.  Tartar,  brought  to  shore  at  last. 

"  She  is  dead  !  "  cried  the  sea-lieutenant,  in  heart 
rending  tones,  throwing  himself  down  by  the  un 
conscious  form  of  the  girl ;  "  and  I  am  the  cause, 
Crisparkle.  I  have  killed  her.  Would  to  God  that 
I  were  dead,  too." 

And  he  broke  into  sobs  and  lamentations,  regardless 
of  the  other  two  motionless  figures. 

The  Minor  Canon,  had  been  quietly  disengaging  the 
poor  girl  from  the  murderer's  terrible  embrace,  and  was 
now  searching  John  Jasper's  pockets  to  see  if  he  could 
find  something  to  restore  her.  To  his  great  joy,  the 
search  was  successful.  He  found  the  flask,  with  still 
a  little  brandy  in  it. 

"  Be  a  man,  Tartar,  and  help  me  to  save  these  poor 
creatures,"  he  said,  almost  sternly,  as  he  tried  to  pour 
a  drop  or  two  of  the  spirit  between  Rosa's  clenched 
teeth.  "  Look  at  the  young  man,  lying  there,  who  has 
risked  his  life,  and  perhaps  lost  it,  in  endeavouring  to 
save  others.  We  may  bring  them  all  back  to  life, 
please  God  !  if  we  do  our  utmost.  Fetch  me  my  coat 
from  the  bank  yonder,  and  I  will  wrap  it  round  this 
poor  child,  and  you  can  wrap  yours  round  that  brave 
fellow  there." 

Mr.  Tartar  was  off  like  a  shot  to  execute  these  com 
missions,  and  having  done  so,  waited  for  further  in 
structions  from  his  friend. 

"  Now  take  the  poor  lad  in  your  arms,  Tartar,"  said 
the  Minor  Canon,  lifting  Rosa  himself  as  he  spoke. 
"  We  must  carry  them  home,  and  send  help  as  speedily 
as  possible  for  the  other.  I  do  not  like  to  abandon  the 
miserable  wretch,  but  there  is  nothing  else  for  it,  and 
he  is  certainly  the  last  to  be  considered." 

"  God  bless  and  reward  you  as  you  deserve,  Cris 
parkle,  my  friend !  "  cried  Mr.  Tartar,  greatly  moved, 
as  he  obeyed  again. 

"  To  them  sentiments,  which  does  the  cove  as  utters 


A    BRUTAL   SUITOR  167 

of  'em  honour/'  said  a  voice  below,  so  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly,  that  the  two  friends  started  as  if  it  had 
been  a  spirit's,  "  I  says  '  so  be  it,'  and  *  amen,'  and  so 
would  William  here,  only  he's  dazed  and  bewildered 
like  for  the  moment,  and  a  born  fool  always."  And 
the  speaker,  scrambling  up  the  steep  bank,  clapped  the 
Minor  Canon  approvingly  and  encouragingly  on  the 
back. 

"  You  are  a  out  and  outer,  ole  chap,"  he  said,  "  a 
downright  plucky  one,  you  air,  and  it  ain't  many  as 
I'd  a  say  that  to,  as  William  knows.  Now  is  it, 
William  ?  " 

"  I  believe  you,  Josiah,"  answered  his  companion, 
but  he  spoke  in  an  agitated  manner,  and  looked  scared 
and  trembling. 

"  As  for  the  cove  lying  there,"  continued  Josiah, 
"  so  still  and  white,  you've  no  call  to  trouble  yourselves 
about  him,  gentlemen.  He'll  be  well  looked  after, 
he  will.  William  and  me  is  come  a  puppus  to 
take  care  o'  him,  and  we're  a  gwine  to  do  it,  ain't  us, 
William  ?  " 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  the  little  man  again,  adding 
under  his  breath,  "  O,  ain't  it  horrible  !  Three  on 
'em.  Lora  mussy  on  us  !  three  on  'em,  Josiah." 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  gentlemen,"  said  the  tall 
man,  looking  down  on  his  companion  with  undisguised 
contempt,  "  that  William,  drivelling  there,  is  noo  to  the 
purfession,  and  ain't  likely  to  make  his  fortun  in  it. 
Come  round,  did  you  ask,  gentlemen  ?  To  be  sure  ! 
The  pretty  creetur — for  she  is  a  pretty  creetur,  though 
I  ain't  partial  to  faymales,  myself,  as  a  rule  ;  they're 
the  very  devil  to  handcuff — will  be  a  dancin'  and  a 
singin'  to-morrow  like  a  lark,  if  she  don't  take  cold — 
and  it  is  confounded  cold — from  the  water ;  and  the 
young  chap,  he's  a  hopening  his  hies  a'ready.  He's 
only  in  a  faint,  he  is.  There  now,  what  do  you  say  to 
that,  William  ?  Them  coves  have  acut  off,  and  left  me 
a  talking  to  the  hair,  or  to  you,  which  is  much  of  a 


168          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

muchness.  That's  what  I  call  p'liteness  in  coves  as 
purtends  to  be  gentlefolk,  cuss  'em  ! 

"  Now,  William,  will  you  look  alive  and  pull  off 
your  coat  to  wrap  it  round  the  cove,  or  will  you 
not  ?  He  looks  ugly,  don't  he  ?  looks  like  summut 
as  we  shall  all  come  to  sooner  or  later — like  death, 
William." 

"  O,  he  looks  horrible,  Josiah !  He's  as  dead  as  a 
stone,  ain't  he  ?  Blest  if  this  ain't  beastly  work  ;  it 
makes  my  flesh  creep/' 

"  They  says,  as  folks  born  to  be  hanged  can't  never 
be  drowned,"  said  Josiah  thoughtfully,  looking  down 
upon  the  ghastly  image  lying  on  the  wet  grass,  "  but 
there  ain't  no  rule  without  exceptions,  William,  and 
I'm  blowed  if  I  don't  believe  this  is  one  of  the  excep 
tions."  He  stooped  as  he  spoke,  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
the  heart  of  the  prostrate  man.  It  had  been  beating 
wildly  and  passionately  only  a  few  moments  before, 
but  now  no  sign  of  life  was  to  be  felt. 

"  Take  him  up,  William,  wrap  your  coat  about  him, 
and  give  him  a  drop  of  brandy  from  the  bottle  there." 
How  cold  and  clammy  is  his  hand !  Has  he  crossed 
the  final  barrier  separating  man  from  God — his  Father 
or  inexorable  Judge  ?  Will  the  world,  and  the  things 
of  the  world,  know  him  no  more  ?  Has  he  evadedpiuman 
justice  for  ever,  and  is  he  now  trembling  in  presence  of 
the  Divine  ? 

If  some  such  questions  as  these  vaguely  suggest 
themselves  to  the  bewildered  brain  of  William,  Josiah 
has  other  things  to  think  of.  He  is  wondering  whether 
the  cove  has  given  him  the  slip  after  all ;  is  wondering 
whether  the  reward  will  be  as  great  for  capturing  the 
dead  man  as  the  living  one  ;  is  deciding  that  he  will  do 
his  utmost  to  fan  the  spark  of  life  which  may  still  be 
lingering  in  the  stiffening  body,  in  order  to  have  it 
quenched  again  in  a  lawful  way,  by  the  last  dread 
executor  of  his  country's  laws — the  hangman. 

They  lift  the  body  between  them,  wrap  it  up  as 


A    BRUTAL   SUITOR  169 

warmly  as  they  can,  and  trudge  away  with  it  towards 
the  city.  William  is  the  first  to  speak  again. 

"  I  don't  see,"  he  begins,  "why  we  should  take  so 
much  trouble  to  bring  back  the  poor  wretch  to  life, 
Josiah,  neither.  It  would  be  far  better,  I  think,  if  he 
should  never  open  his  eyes  no  more,  for  he's  sure  of  the 
gallows  now,  if  he  do  ;  if  not  for  the  first  crime,  at  any 
rate,  for  the  second ;  and  drowning' s  better  than 
hanging  any  day." 

"I'm  ashamed  of  you,  William.  I  wouldn't  a  took 
you  for  a  comrade  in  this  here  work,  if  I'd  known 
that  your  hideas  was  of  that  low  natur.  No,  William, 
I'm  a  honest  man,  I  am,  and  I'd  scorn  to  cheat  justice 
of  its  wictim.  I  hunts  down  the  victim,  I  won't  let  him 
make  away  with  hisself ,  not  if  he  wants  to.  I  ketches, 
I  binds,  and  I  handcuffs  him,  and  I  hands  him  over  to 
justice,  and  I  says,  '  Hang  him  up,  flog  him,  imprison 
him,  and  make  an  example  of  him  for  hothers.'  Them's 
my  sentiments,  William,  and  I  glories  in  'em.  I  ain't 
proud,  pride  is  one  of  the  deadly  sins,  but  I  thanks 
Evin  for  having  steeped  me  in  them  sentiments,  which 
was  inculcated  in  me  from  my  youth  up." 

"  You're  a  hard  man,  Josiah,"  said  his  companion, 
shifting  his  burden  a  little. 

"  I  am,"  said  the  other,  "  I  ain't  butter  nor  honey, 
to  melt  in  yer  mouth,  I'm  made  of  iron.  And  what's 
more,  I'm  a  religious  man.  I  was  driv'  to  chapel  when 
I  was  a  boy  with  the  stick,  and  I  goes  there  now,  with 
out  no  driving.  If  this  chap  here,"  indicating  with  a 
nod,  the  lifeless  body  he  was  bearing,  "  is  dead,  which 
I  hope  he  ain't,  then  he's  a  self-murderer,  and  went 
slap-bang  to  hell.  A  self-murderer  or  '  fellow-d'ye- 
see,'  which  I've  heered  is  the  right  name  for't,  must  go 
there  slap-bang  ;  he  can't  help  hisself.  He's  damned 
eternal,  he  is.  Now  if  I  gives  him  time  for  repentance, 
he  may  git  to  Heaven  after  all,  if  he'd  made  away  with 
a  hundred.  Thus,  on  the  one  hand,  I  does  this  chap  a 
good  work  by  givin'  him  the  chance  of  being  saved 


170          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

(for  what's  the  pain  of  being  hanged-up,  compared  to 
the  pains  01  damnation  ?),  and  I  does  justice  a  good 
work,  on  the  hother  hand,  by  delivering  up  its  wictim. 
What  do  you  say  to  that,  William  ?  ain't  that  killing 
two  birds  with  one  stone,  with  a  wengeance  ?  " 

"  It  sounds  all  right  enough,  Josiah,  but  somehow 
it  feels  all  wrong,  and  I  don't  like  it.  I  do  believe  if  I 
were  to  get  into  trouble,  for  all  we're  cronies,  you'd 
betray  me  sooner  than  not — that  you'd  be  glad  to 
do  it." 

"  In  coorse  I  should,  William.  If  you  go  agin  the 
laws,  you  must  expect  the  laws  to  go  agin  you.  Lor, 
I'd  have  the  handcuffs  round  your  wrists  so  neat  and 
quick,  that  it  would  be  a  pleasure  to  you  yourself  to 
wear  'em." 

"  And  you  wouldn't  have  no  thought  for  my  poor 
Betsy,  who's  expectin'  her  fifth  next  month,  and  the 
four  little  childer.  You  wouldn't  think  o'  them, 
Josiah,"  said  the  small  man  bitterly. 

"  Wives  and  childer,"  retorted  the  other,  serenely, 
"  is  harticles  which  I  awoids,  except  when  they're  to 
be  took  ;  then  I  does  my  dooty  by  'em.  If  I  speaks 
hotherwise  to  a  female,  I  flatters  her,  in  order  to  hinduce 
her  to  open  her  mouth,  which  she  does  then,  imme 
diate.  I  never  knew  that  to  fail." 

They  had  reached  Cloisterham  by  this  time  and  now 
entered  an  inn,  in  the  parlour  of  whch  they  deposited 
their  burden ;  and  from  this  moment  Josiah  was 
too  exclusively  occupied  in  using  every  possible  and 
probable  means,  assisted  by  a  doctor,  whom  he  had  sent 
for  immediately  on  their  arrival,  for  the  resuscitation 
of  the  apparently  dead  man,  to  have  any  further  time 
to  bestow  on  the  instruction  of  his  companion  in  his 
own  grand  and  enlightened  principles  of  humanity. 
They  laboured  long  in  vain,  and  the  doctor  was  inclined 
to  pronounce  the  case  as  hopeless ;  but  Josiah  still 
kept  on,  as  tenderly  solicitous  as  the  most  loving  parent 
with  an  only  child  could  be,  to  bring  him  back  to  life. 


A   BRUTAL   SUITOR  171 

At  last,  when  even  he  was  slackening  in  his  labours, 
and  giving  utterance  to  a  final  opinion,  "  that  the  cove 
had  been  and  done  it,  and  that  justice  was  shamefully 
defrauded,"  the  doctor  uttered  a  slight  exclamation, 
and  bent  his  ear  to  listen. 

Was  that  a  sigh  issuing  from  the  tightly  closed  lips  ? 
Was  that  fancy,  or  a  real  quiver  of  the  eyelids  ? 

In  another  moment,  Josiah  turned  round  in  breath 
less  satisfaction  to  William,  sitting  indifferently  and 
with  averted  head  in  the  window-seat. 

"  Have  them  things  ready,  William.     Quick  !  " 

"  For  shame,  for  shame,  Josiah !  Would  you  hand 
cuff  the  dead  ?  " 

"  Dead  !  He  ain't  no  more  dead  than  me  or  you. 
He's  a  coming  round  bootiful.  He's  opening  his  eyes, 
I  tell  you,  William.  That's  about  where  it  is,  and  no 
thanks  to  you,  for  I'm  the  man  who's  saved  him." 


Josiah  (the  man  of  iron,  as  he  proudly  called  him 
self)  had  been  right  in  his  prediction,  that  the  gallant 
young  man — who,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  had  been  upon 
the  spot  in  time  to  rescue  Rosa  and  her  terrible  lover 
from  that  watery  grave,  to  which  they  would  inevitably 
have  been  borne,  but  for  his  heroism — was  only  in  a 
faint.  Mr.  Tartar  had  been  carrying  him  but  a  few 
minutes,  when  he  recovered  full  consciousness,  and 
sufficient  strength  to  enable  him  to  walk,  assisted  by  the 
sea-lieutenant's  arm,  until  they  reached  Cloisterham. 
On  arriving  there,  he  abruptly  thanked  Mr.  Tartar  for 
his  support,  declared  he  was  now  perfectly  restored, 
and  that  he  preferred  to  return  alone  to  his  inn  (he  was 
a  stranger  in  Cloisterham,  he  said)  where  he  could 
change  his  clothes,  and  adopt  some  simple  precautions 
against  taking  cold,  the  only  thing  he  feared  now  on  his 
own  account.  He  made  light  of  the  swoon  into  which 
he  had  fallen,  probably  occasioned,  he  explained,  by 
the  effort  of  endeavouring,  unassisted,  to  drag  the 


172          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

bodies  to  the  shore,  for  his  constitution  had  been 
weakened  by  a  long  and  severe  illness.  He  expressed 
his  satisfaction  at  having  been  successful  in  his 
endeavours  to  save  the  two  unfortunates,  and  gave 
utterance  to  his  fervent  hope  and  conviction  that  they 
would  be  brought  back  to  life  again,  having  been, 
comparatively,  so  short  a  time  in  the  water.  Finally, 
he  declined  the  earnest  request  of  the  sea-lieutenant,  to 
be  permitted  to  accompany  him  to  the  inn,  and  satisfy 
himself  that  his  every  want  was  attended  to,  with 
a  decision  and  curtness  almost  uncourteous,  which 
tended  considerably  to  damp  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
Mr.  Tartar  was  inclined  to  regard  him.  The  discom 
fited  sea-lieutenant  was  forced  to  let  him  depart  alone, 
after  begging  permission  to  wait  upon  him  next  day 
with  news — God  grant  good  news  ! — of  the  others, 
and  assure  himself  that  their  brave  rescuer  had  sus 
tained  no  injury  to  his  own  health  ;  and  then,  with  a 
repetition  of  his  warmest  thanks  and  most  heartfelt 
gratitude,  he  watched  him  disappear  into  the  night. 

For  a  further  minute  or  two  the  puzzled  and 
bewildered  young  man  stood  looking  after  the  stranger, 
who  had  left  him  so  unceremoniously  and  abruptly,  and 
who  had  put  away  all  notion  of  thanks  with  a  slighting 
motion  of  his  hand,  and  the  ungraciously  curt  remark 
that  he  had  only  done  his  duty,  and  what  any  other 
man,  deserving  the  name,  must  have  done,  in  en 
deavouring  to  save  two  perishing  fellow-creatures.  But 
the  remembrance  of  Rosa,  and  his  cruel  anxiety  con 
cerning  her  fate,  soon  swallowed  up  thought  of  all  else, 
and  he  hastened  after  the  Minor  Canon,  who  had  sped 
on  before  with  his  precious  burden,  wisely  adopting  the 
precaution  of  calling  at  the  house  of  the  family  doctor 
on  his  way,  and  getting  him  to  accompany  him. 

They  found  the  usually  quiet  home  in  Minor  Canon 
Corner  in  a  state  of  wild  confusion  and  alarm.  The 
servants  were  scuttling  hither  and  thither,  with  no 
apparent  object,  or  crowding  round  the  door  of  poor 


A    BRUTAL   SUITOR  173 

Rosa's  little  room  to  get  a  look  at  the  pretty  darling, 
cold  and  dead.  Only  the  Minor  Canon  and  the  hand 
some,  proud  Miss  Landless  preserved  anything  like 
self-command  under  these  distressing  circumstances. 

"  She  can't  have  no  heart  at  all,"  said  sobbing  Mary, 
from  behind  her  apron,  to  sobbing  cook,  just  emerging 
from  hers,  to  take  a  curious  survey  of  the  little  motion 
less  figure,  so  still  and  beautiful  "  or  she'd  have  a  tear 
now,  at  all  events,  and  her  eyes  is  as  dry  as  a  bone. 
Missus  has  her  faults,  and  far  be  it  from  me  to  wish  to 
conceal  'em,  but  she've  got  a  kind  heart  at  bottom  ; 
see  how  she's  a  taking  on,  cook.  I  ain't  got  no  patience 
with  them  'aughty,  cold-blooded  ones,  and  I  can't  abear 
that  Miss  Landless." 

But  Helena,  cold  and  hard-hearted  as  the  world 
from  below-stairs  had  just  pronounced  her,  was  the 
only  one  capable  of  carrying  out,  with  a  steady  hand, 
the  directions  given  by  the  Minor  Canon — was  the  only 
one  who  could  take  off  the  wet  clothes  clinging  to  the 
frozen  limbs  of  the  lifeless  girl,  and  wrapping  her  in 
warm  blankets,  lay  her  on  her  little  white  bed ;  for 
cook  couldn't,  for  the  life  of  her,  touch  a  corpse — the 
very  idea  turned  her  blood  to  water  ;  and  Mary  shrieked 
out  a  vehement  negation  of  a  proposal  that  she  should 
help  ;  and  the  china  shepherdess  herself,  although 
willing  and  ready,  was  blinded  by  the  tears  which 
coursed  down  her  usually  rosy  cheeks,  now  pale  with 
apprehension  and  alarm,  and  her  nominal  help  was 
little  better  than  nothing.  It  required  stern  and 
almost  harsh  words,  rare  from  the  mild  lips  of  the 
master  of  the  house,  to  subdue  the  untimely  agitation 
of  the  china  shepherdess,  and  to  bring  the  frightened 
servants  to  a  sense  of  their  duty  :  but  at  length  some 
thing  like  order  was  restored,  fires  were  lit,  hot  bottles 
were  prepared,  and  the  work  of  wrestling  with  death 
for  his  almost  certain  prey  was  carried  on  with  vigour. 
It  was  no  time  for  selfish  thoughts  or  selfish  longings, 
and  the  Minor  Canon  was  the  last  man  in  the  world  to 


174          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

indulge  in  them,  but  his  heart  swelled,  and  his  eye 
brightened  involuntarily  with  wonder  and  admiration 
when  it  rested  by  chance  on  the  pale,  composed  face  of 
the  brave  girl  his  heart  had  chosen,  and  he  felt  how 
dearly  he  loved  and  honoured  her. 

Mr.  Tartar  and  the  doctor  had  entered  the  house 
together,  and  the  latter  had  gone  to  the  room  where 
poor  Rosa  lay,  sternly  prohibiting  the  servants  from 
entering  unless  they  were  summoned  ;  while  the  sea- 
lieutenant,  feeling  almost  as  if  he  had  violated  his 
promise  to  Rosa  in  coming  into  the  house  again,  made 
his  way  noiselessly  to  the  little  drawing-room,  thinking 
he  might  venture  to  sit  there  awhile,  and  await  the 
doctor's  verdict.  There  he  found  Neville  and  Mr. 
Grewgious  ;  the  former  sitting  in  a  low  chair,  with  his 
head  almost  resting  on  his  knees,  and  drawing  a  long, 
gasping  sob,  from  time  to  time,  like  a  child  who  has 
exhausted  itself  with  violent  weeping,  but  has  by  no 
means  exhausted  the  intensity  of  its  sorrow  ;  and  the 
latter  regarding,  with  a  certain  rigidity  of  woe,  the 
wasting  and  the  dying  fire.  Both  looked  up  as  Mr. 
Tartar  entered,  but  both  drooped  their  heads  again  as 
they  saw  that  he  was  neither  the  bearer  of  good  news, 
nor  any  news  whatever.  Neville  drew  his  breath  pain 
fully  and  sobbingly  once  more,  and  the  old  man  began 
to  murmur  again,  as  he  had  murmured  ever  since  he 
had  heard  of  the  catastrophe  :  "  Like  her  mother ! 
O,  pitiful  God,  just  like  her  mother  !  " 

Mr.  Tartar  felt  he  had  no  words  to  alleviate  such 
bitter  sorrow  as  this  ;  and  cold  and  shivering — for 
though  he  had  not  been  actually  in  the  water,  his 
clothes  had  been  much  splashed  and  wetted — he  sat 
down  silently  before  the  fire,  which  he  stirred  mechanic 
ally,  trying  to  gather  hope  from  the  simile,  that  even 
as  the  faint  spark  under  his  hands  burned  up  into  new 
life  and  vigour,  so  the  faint  spark  of  life  upstairs  might, 
by  careful  fanning  and  attention,  be  revived  once  more, 
the  while  he  listened,  with  strained  attention,  for  any 


A    BRUTAL   SUITOR  175 

sound  from  the  room  above,  where  she  was  lying.  There 
was  no  lamp  in  the  room,  but  the  moonshine  streamed 
in  through  the  unshuttered  windows,  lighting  it  up 
weirdly,  and  making  the  accustomed  articles  of  furni 
ture  look  strange  and  unreal. 

Since  the  arrival  of  the  doctor,  and  the  exercise  of 
the  doctor's  authority,  the  noise  and  confusion  had 
subsided  into  absolute  quiet — quiet  so  undisturbed  and 
intense,  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  must  draw  its  origin  from 
death.  Only  the  low,  painfully-rending  sobs  of 
Neville  broke  the  silence. 

Helena,  kneeling  by  the  bedside,  had  slightly  raised 
her  eyes  as  the  grave  doctor  came  in,  and  then,  as  if  she 
could  not  bear  to  read  in  his  expression  that  hope  was 
in  vain,  had  buried  her  pale  face  in  the  snowy  bed  linen, 
trembling  from  head  to  foot,  but  uttering  neither  sob 
nor  sound.  The  china  shepherdess  wiped  her  streaming 
eyes,  and  both  she  and  her  son  looked  imploringly  at 
their  old  friend  as  if  the  issues  of  life  and  death  lay  in 
his  hands,  and  they  were,  mutely  but  most  eloquently, 
beseeching  him  to  bring  back  the  young  life,  almost 
fled  for  ever.  The  family  doctor  was  also  the  "  medical 
man  "  (as  Miss  Twinkleton  preferred  to  style  him) 
of  the  Nuns'  House,  and  ever  since  pretty  Rosa,  a 
tiny,  bright-eyed  little  girl,  had  become  an  inmate 
thereof,  he  had  attended  her  in  her  various  little 
ailments. 

He  had  re-vaccinated  her,  on  an  occasion  when  small 
pox  had  been  rife  in  Cloisterham  ;  had  brought  her 
through  whooping-cough,  measles,  scarlatina,  and  other 
ills  to  which  youth  are  subject ;  and  he  loved  the  child, 
as  every  one  did  with  whom  she  came  in  contact. 
Something  like  emotion  was  working  in  his  rugged  face 
as  he  looked  down  upon  her  now. 

He  took  the  little  passive  hand  and  laid  his  own  upon 
the  quiet  heart.  Did  it  beat,  though  faintly,  or  was 
it  still  for  ever  ? 

With  the  imploring  eyes  of  mother  and  son  upon  him 


176          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

always — Helena  continued  to  kneel  motionless,  with  her 
face  hidden — he  repeated  this  performance,  with  still 
more  gravity ;  felt  the  cold  feet,  to  which  no  amount 
of  hot  bottles  could  bring  the  warm  blood  ;  took  a 
lighted  candle  from  a  table  close  by,  and  holding  the 
small,  tightly-clenched  hand  before  the  flame,  regarded 
it  intently  ;  then  he  held  the  same  candle  carefully  to 
her  lips. 

Finally,  with  a  compassionate  look  at  the  two 
observing  him  and  his  every  action  so  narrowly,  with 
subdued,  though  intense  emotion,  he  put  the  candle 
down  again,  let  his  glance  rest  for  a  moment  on  the  dark, 
bowed  head,  half-buried  in  the  counterpane,  and  said, 
using  the  only  words  of  hope  he  could  use  with  truth — 

"  She  is  not  dead— yet." 

Not  dead  yet !  Then  there  is  still  a  chance,  and 
we  must  make  the  most  of  it,  and  wrestle  once  more 
and  with  renewed  vigour,  with  cruel  death  for  his 
almost  certain  prey. 

Heat  blankets  there,  before  the  fire.  Chafe  the  cold 
limbs.  Use  every  means  which  human  experience 
and  human  skill  can  employ  to  induce  the  almost 
frozen  blood  to  circulate  again  ;  to  make  the  stiffening 
limbs  supple  once  more  ;  to  resuscitate  this  image, 
wondrously  fair  yet,  but  which  death  would  turn  in  a 
few  short  days  to  loathsome  clay,  and  make  it  the 
beauteous  habitation  of  a  loving  and  a  living  spirit,  as 
it  was  before. 

She  is  not  dead — yet !  Then  labour  to  restore  her, 
dear  friends  who  love  her,  again  and  yet  again,  un 
wearied  and  unwearying.  While  there  is  life,  there  is 
hope  ;  and  hope  grows  stronger  every  minute. 

Death,  astonished  at  this  determined  opposition, 
draws  back,  removes  his  icy  hand  from  the  heart, 
stirring  now  audibly,  and  beats  at  last  a  retreat. 
Rosa  stirred,  half-opened  her  eyes,  then  closed  them, 
exhausted ;  trembled,  quivered,  uttered  a  faint 
moan,  as  if  in  pain.  The  doctor's  face  grew  grave, 


A    BRUTAL   SUITOR  177 

and  he  examined  her  uneasily,  as  he  stooped  down 
over  her. 

She  opened  her  eyes  again ;  this  time,  wide  and  wildly. 
She  stared  about  her,  and  at  the  doctor,  but  without 
comprehension  of  where  she  was.  She  even  seemed 
to  try  to  repulse  him  with  her  feeble  hand,  as  she 
muttered — 

"  Eddy,  Eddy  !  " 

She  had  come  back  to  life,  but  not  to  consciousness. 
As  the  colour  returned  to  her  cheeks,  it  burned  there 
with  a  fierceness  and  intensity  terrifying  and  alarming. 
As  the  warmth  came  back  to  her  members,  they  glowed 
like  fire.  As  the  heart,  which  had  almost  ceased  its 
labours,  began  them  once  more,  it  appeared  as  if  it 
were  trying  to  make  up  for  lost  time,  so  furiously  did  it 
beat.  The  exposure,  terror,  and  strain  upon  her 
courage  had  proved  too  much  for  a  delicate  frame. 
Rosa  was  in  a  raging  fever. 

For  many  days,  the  sorrowful  watchers  by  her  sick 
bed  feared  that  death,  foiled  in  one  attempt,  had  only 
made  a  sham  retreat,  in  order  to  attack  from  another 
side  with  renewed  vigour,  and  success. 

They  cut  off,  weeping,  the  long  bright  brown  hair 
from  the  restless  head,  ever  tossing  to  and  fro  upon 
the  pillow,  and  laid  ice  upon  it  to  still  its  fatal  burning. 

They  listened  with  agitated  hearts  and  subdued 
breath  to  the  incoherent  words  which  issued  from  the 
innocent  lips  ;  and  let  hot  tears  fall  as  they  prayed  to 
God  for  help  and  succour,  acknowledging  with  deep 
humility  that  only  He  could  wrestle  successfully  with 
their  remorseless  enemy,  and  imploring  Him  to  give 
them  back  their  treasure. 

Day  followed  day,  and  night,  night,  until  the  time 
came  when  the  doctor  and  Helena,  the  mother  and  her 
son,  stood  solemnly  round  the  couch,  awaiting  breath 
lessly  the  result  of  the  most  dreaded  moment  in  the 
malady  ;  the  moment  which  would  decide  the  question, 
whether  death  or  life — the  crisis. 

N 


178  A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

The  fever  had  burnt  itself  out  at  last,  and  the  little 
creature,  who  had  been  torn  and  rent  by  this  unclean 
spirit,  had  stretched  out  her  weary  limbs  and  fallen  into 
a  sleep  so  profound  and  deep  that  they  hardly  dared  to 
hope  that  she  could  ever  wake  again. 

Once  more  the  doctor  took  the  little  hand — ah,  so 
worn  and  wasted  ! — once  more,  he  laid  his  own  upon  the 
faintly  beating  heart — once  more,  he  uttered  the  only 
words  of  hope  which  would  have  been  true :  ' '  She  is  not 
dead — yet." 

And  she  did  not  die.  The  patient,  tender  nurses  were 
rewarded  a  hundred-fold  for  their  love  and  care.  The 
fragile  plant,  from  whose  heart  the  cruel  worm  was 
taken  away,  though  presenting  hardly  any  outward 
sign  of  life,  had  a  little  green  spot  at  its  centre  still, 
and  they  nourished  it  so  carefully  that  it  began  to 
grow  again. 

A  life  so  frail  and  feeble,  that  a  breath  would  have 
quenched  it,  but  no  baleful  breath  was  suffered  to  blow 
upon  it,  and  the  flickering  light  of  life  burned  up  afresh. 
Again  she  came  back  from  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
opened  her  eyes,  and  smiled  upon  them.  Thanks  be 
to  God,  ever  merciful  !  She  knew  them  now. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

"  THE    SECRET    OF    THE    GRAVE  " 

THE  prisoner,  John  Jasper,  had  sent  a  message  to  the 
Revd.  Septimus,  requesting  him  to  visit  him  in  the 
prison,  and,  of  course,  that  good  and  Christian  gentle 
man  hastened  to  comply  with  the  demand.  As  he 
came  in  sight  of  the  stone  walls  and  iron  bars,  the 
gloom  and  hopelessness  of  the  place  fell  heavily  on  his 
warmly-beating  heart.  As  he  thought  of  the  wretched 
man  within,  once  abroad  and  free,  with  health,  good 
looks,  talents,  and  the  world  before  him,  and  realized 
to  what  a  condition  a  guilty  love  had  brought  him,  a 
great  pity  for  his  fate  swallowed  up  his  loathing  of  the 
sin  and  his  abhorrence  of  the  sinner.  He  had  felt  more 
aversion  towards  the  man,  before  this  last  crime,  and 
when  he  was  honoured  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  than  he 
did  now. 

He  tried  to  imagine  what  his  own  feelings  might  be, 
if  he  should  return  to  learn  that  the  woman  of  his 
affections,  so  tenderly  cherished  in  the  warmest  corner 
of  his  heart,  had  bestowed  her  love  on  some  one  else, 
and  was  lost  for  him.  The  sharp  pang  which  even  this 
thought  caused  him — this  groundless  thought,  grant 
Heaven  ! — raised  up  in  him  heartfelt  pity  for  the  man. 
who  must  have  suffered  it  a  million  times. 

As  he  entered  the  prison,  and  paced  the  dark  cold 
passage,  with  the  gaoler  conducting  him,  a  prayer  of 
pity  towards  the  Author  of  all  compassion  in  our  hearts 
rose  strong  within  him. 

Heaven  help  him  to  speak  words  which  might  bring 
repentance  and  bring  comfort!  Heaven  be  merciful 

I7Q 


i8o         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

to  this  sinner,  so  deeply  dyed  with  blood,  for 
which  earth  cried  for  vengeance — for  he  had  loved 
much  ! 

With  these  words  on  his  lips,  and  heavenly  compassion 
in  his  heart,  the  Minor  Canon  entered  the  cell.  They 
had  not  met  face  to  face  since  that  time,  some  months 
before,  when  they  had  journeyed  up  to  London  to 
gether.  The  Minor  Canon  was  as  erect  and  fresh — 
just  the  same,  to  all  outward  appearance — as  if  it  had 
been  yesterday  ;  but  to  the  other,  nearly  ten  years 
younger,  what  a  change  had  come  !  Twenty  years  of 
ordinary  life  could  not  have  worked  it.  Twenty  years 
of  misery  could  have  done  no  more.  Bowed  down  and 
broken  ;  his  hair  streaked  with  grey  ;  his  eyes  blood 
shot  ;  his  face  lined  and  marked  like  that  of  a  man  of 
fourscore  ;  his  bushy  and  well-kept  whiskers  gone  ; 
and  the  heavy,  relentless  chin,  the  thin,  compressed  and 
cruel  lips,  telling  their  own  story — plainly  to  be  read 
by  the  least  observing  eyes — so,  one  marked  by  God, 
and  the  other  by  sin — the  good  man  and  the  bad  man 
met. 

"  This  is  the  prisoner,  sir,"  said  the  gaoler.  "  Look 
up,  prisoner;  here's  the  gentleman  come  to  see  you. 
Here's  the  Minor  Canon." 

The  man  knew  John  Jasper  well,  as  who  did  not  in 
Cloisterham  ?  but  here  he  had  lost  all  rank  and  title. 
Here  he  was  only  the  prisoner. 

"  My  orders  is,  to  leave  you  alone  together,  sir," 
began  the  keeper  again,  "  but  you've  no  reason  to  be 
afraid.  He  was  wild  and  furious  at  first,  so  we  were 
obliged  to  put  him  into  chains,  but  he's  as  quiet  as  a 
lamb  now,  and  I'm  outside  within  call.  He  can't 
touch  you,  sir." 

"I'm  not  in  the  least  afraid,"  said  the  Minor  Canon, 
quietly  ;  yet,  as  the  door  clicked  in  the  lock,  and  the 
heavy  key  turned,  as  he  stood  there  facing  the  prisoner 
in  the  gloom  of  the  prison,  breathing  the  damp,  chill 
atmosphere,  tainted  with  prison  breath,  something, 


'THE    SECRET   OF   THE    GRAVE"      181 

not  fear,  but  an  involuntary  creeping  of  the  flesh,  made 
him  shudder. 

John  Jasper  had  not  looked  up  as  the  two  entered, 
and  he  still  remained  impassive  when  the  gaoler  went, 
cowering  down  upon  a  rude  bedstead,  upon  which  he 
was  sitting,  motionless  as  death. 

For  a  moment  the  Minor  Canon  waited  for  him  to 
begin,  but,  as  he  still  kept  silent,  the  clergyman  spoke. 

"  You  wished  me  to  come  to  you,"  he  said,  "  what 
can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer,  no  roused  expression  in  the 
face  to  indicate  that  the  words  had  been  heard  ;  yet 
the  chains  clinked  faintly,  as  if  the  prisoner  trembled. 

"  Oh,  believe  me/'  said  the  Minor  Canon,  earnestly, 
"  that  I  do  not  stand  before  you  as  an  accuser,  or  an 
enemy,  but  as  one  who  longs  to  comfort  you,  and  be 
your  friend.  Oh,  believe  me  (laying  his  hand  gently  on 
the  prisoner's  bowed  head),  that  I  can  realise  fully,  for 
the  first  time  that,  if  your  sin  was  great  and  terrible, 
so  also  was  the  temptation,  and  that  I  am  filled  with 
the  deepest  compassion  for  you,  and  will  serve  you 
all  I  can." 

Still  the  prisoner  sat  rigid  and  still,  but  the  Minor 
Canon  noticed  that  a  new  expression  began  to  break 
up  the  stupor  of  his  face,  and  that  his  breast  rose  and 
fell  more  quickly  than  at  first. 

At  that  moment,  the  bells  of  the  Cathedral  began  to 
ring  for  afternoon  service.  The  prisoner  started  as  he 
heard  the  old  familiar  sound,  raised  his  eyes  to  the 
clergyman's,  and  listened  with  rapt  attention.  As 
he  listened,  his  eyes  brightened,  his  chest  heaved  con 
vulsively,  his  nostrils  quivered  ;  that  inward  life  of  the 
soul,  which  seemed  to  have  almost  deserted  hm,  came 
back  with  a  rush, 

Watching  him  attentively,  the  Minor  Canon  thought 
he  understood  what  thus  moved  him,  and  gave  utter 
ance  to  his  belief. 

"  That  accustomed  sound  reminds  you  of  former 


182          A   GREAT    MYSTERY    SOLVED 

times,"  he  said,  "  when  you  were  free  ;  of  old  days 
when  you  were  innocent ;  of  associations  which  were 
yours  when  your  life  was  not  overshadowed  as  it  is  now. 
Oh,  listen  to  that  inward  voice  recalling  those  old 
times  ;  repent — for  the  greater  the  sin,  the  greater 
the  mercy — repent  and  be  forgiven." 

"  Fool,  you !  "  exclaimed  the  prisoner,  rising  suddenly, 
and  facing  the  astonished  Minor  Canon — how  terribly 
the  chains  rattled  as  he  did  so  ! — "  hear  what  I  have 
to  say,  and  spare  me  those  idiotic  remarks  about  for 
giveness.  When  I  ask  to  be  forgiven,  then  palaver 
about  your  and  your  Master's  willingness  to  forgive. 
When  I  repent — ha,  ha  !  I  can  laugh  still,  you  see  ! — 
then  prattle  about  my  penitence.  I'll  tell  you  what 
I  think  about  when  those  bells  ring  (I  used  to  curse 
them  often,  little  dreaming  of  the  comfort  they  would 
be  to  me  in  the  prison) — I  also  think  of  the  time  when 
I  walked  unfettered  and  honoured — aye,  and  loved, 
too — outside  these  walls,  but  not  free,  as  you  inno 
cently  imagine  (milksops  like  you,  in  whose  languid 
veins  runs  water  instead  of  blood  ;  who  have  never 
loved,  and  never  can),  but  bound — bound  in  chains  to 
which  these  are  nothing." 

Again  he  raised  his  chained  hands,  and  laughed 
triumphantly  and  wildly.  Then,  when  the  mocking 
echoes  had  ceased,  he  went  on  again. 

"  I  also  think  of  the  many  times  when  I  sang  in 
yonder  pile,  clothed  in  white  like  a  saint  ;  when  no  iron 
visible  to  the  human  eye  manacled  and  galled  me,  but 
when  I  knew  and  felt  that  the  iron  had  entered  into  my 
soul." 

With  a  wild  and  terrible  cry  he  raised  his  fettered 
hands  once  more,  as  if  he  would  appeal  to  Heaven  as  a 
witness  that  he  spoke  the  truth.  The  awe-struck  and 
shocked  Minor  Canon  drew  back  a  step. 

"  You  used  to  say,"  continued  John  Jasper,  "  and 
others  used  to  say,  that  my  voice,  pealing  through  the 
Cathedral,  was  sweet  as  the  voice  of  an  angel.  Oh, 


"THE    SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      183 

ye  would-be  wise  ones  of  the  earth,  moles  and  bats  are 
ye  !  for  only  I  knew,  and  revelled  in  the  knowledge, 
even  then,  that  it  was  no  angel's,  but  the  devil's  own 
voice  to  which  ye  listened  enraptured ;  and  that  ye 
bowed  down  and  worshipped — not  in  God's  but  in 
Baal's  temple.  Thus  it  is  that  I  glory  in  the  sound  of 
the  bells,  and  love  to  hear  them  in  my  narrow  cell — 
though  I  hated  them  before — for  they,  and  only  they, 
bring  back  to  me  clearly  the  difference  between  now 
and  then.  When  they  chime,  I  remember  that  the 
bonds  which  bound  me  are  burst  at  last ;  that  I  have 
held  my  love  in  my  arms,  pressed  her  to  my  heart, 
revelled  in  the  sweetness  of  her  lips  ;  and  that  she  is 
mine  now,  and  must  be  mine  for  ever.  Then  I  recognise 
to  the  full  that  in  the  prison  I  have  regained  my  freedom, 
that  I  was  bound  and  am  free." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  listening  to  the  clear 
sound  of  the  bells  with  a  smiling  mouth  ;  then,  turning 
towards  the  Minor  Canon,  he  enquired — 

"  Where  have  they  laid  her  ?  " 

"  God,  in  His  mercy,"  answered  the  clergyman,  firmly 
and  almost  severely,  "  has  spared  you  from  the  com 
mittal  of  that  crime.  She  is  saved  !  " 

The  wretched  man  made  a  sudden  bound  towards 
the  speaker  with  raised  hands,  as  if  he  would  crush  him, 
but  paused,  even  before  he  had  reached  the  end  of  his 
chain,  and  smiled  as  if  amused,  while  the  fury  faded 
out  of  his  eyes  as  rapidly  as  it  had  come. 

"  Bah  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  /  am  making  a  fool  of  my 
self  now.  You  are  telling  a  lie  to  frighten  me.  I  know 
she  is  dead.  I  feel  it  here  (striking  himself  upon  the 
breast).  If  she  were  not — but  she  is,  she  is — I  should 
break  through  stone  walls  and  iron  bars  to  get  to  her. 
I  felt  her  die,  I  tell  you,  on  my  heart — on  my  heart,  her 
natural  resting-place,  where  she  will  rest  for  ever  now, 
for  I  shall  die  and  go  to  her.  You  cannot  take  her 
from  me.  No  one  can  ;  no  one  dare.  I  shall  die  and 
go  to  her,  where  she  is  waiting  for  me.  Welcome  death  ! 


184          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

welcome,  even  on  a  scaffold !  I  sit  here,  happy  in 
captivity,  because  she  lies  in  my  arms,  and  I  whisper 
to  her  of  my  love,"  and  he  flung  himself  down  upon  his 
straw  mattress,  and  pressed  it  convulsively  to  his 
heart. 

But,  as  the  bells  ceased,  the  light  died  out  of  his 
eyes  ;  the  rapture  faded  ;  and  he  grew  quiet  and 
composed.  The  Minor  Canon  had  made  a  motion  as  if 
to  summon  the  keeper,  which  the  prisoner  seemed  to 
feel  rather  than  to  see,  for,  without  rising,  he  peremp 
torily  requested  him  to  remain.  His  voice  sounded 
hard  and  cold,  his  bearing  and  manner  were  totally 
different  from  what  they  had  been  as  the  bells  rang, 
as  he  said — 

"  Not  yet,  Mr.  Crisparkle.  You  will  not  grudge  a 
dying  man  the  benefit  of  your  ghostly  counsel.  I  am 
going  to  make  this  cell — well  adapted  for  the  purpose — 
into  a  confessional,  and  to  make  you  my  father  con 
fessor.  Take  a  chair,  sir.  It  is  a  poor  chair,  certainly, 
neither  cushioned  nor  padded,  but  perhaps  you  will  be 
kind  enough  to  remember  that  it  is  the  best  I  have 
to  offer  you,  and  make  allowance  for  its  deficiencies. 
What,  you  will  not  stay  and  hear  me — you  decline  to 
hear  these  interesting  confessions  of  a  criminal,  and  are 
determined  to  neglect  this  never-to-be-recalled  oppor 
tunity  of  tickling  the  respected  ears  of  Cloisterham. 
Ah,  you  are  yielding  ;  I  thought  you  would.  The 
story  promises  to  be  exciting,  and  even  a  clergyman 
can't  resist  that.  There,  make  yourself  as  comfortable 
as  you  can,  for  I  have  much  to  tell  you. 

"  Why  do  I  tell  it,  not  being  penitent  ?  nay,  declaring 
at  the  outset,  to  prevent  any  sanguine  hopes  of  yours, 
that  I  utterly  decline  the  favour  of  an  absolution,  and 
would  do  it  all  again,  if  I  had  it  still  to  do.  Perhaps, 
I  am  still  man  enough — that  is  to  say,  still  frail  enough 
— to  wish  to  relieve  myself  of  a  burden  which  I  have 
carried  alone  for  years,  and  to  shift  some  portion  of  it 
on  another  ;  perhaps,  I  am  proud  of  the  skill  and  per- 


"THE    SECRET   OF   THE    GRAVE'1      185 

severance  which  I  have  exhibited,  and  want  to  win  the 
applause  I  have  earned ;  perhaps  I  want  to  show  the 
world  that  my  plans  were  perfect,  and  admirably 
carried  out,  and  that  no  one  could  have  discovered 
them,  or  ferreted  out  the  facts,  if  I  had  not  disclosed 
them  with  my  own  lips.  Perhaps  it  is  all  these  reasons 
together,  or  perhaps  one  of  them,  or  perhaps  another 
reason  totally  opposed  to  these — no  matter,  I  have 
resolved  to  tell  it.  For  years  I  have  lived  for  only  one 
object,  and  been  filled  with  only  one  desire.  I  have 
strained  every  nerve  to  attain  it,  and  I  have  done  so, 
though  not  quite  in  the  way  I  intended.  Never  mind  ! 
I  have  attained  it,  and  I  am  satisfied." 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  tell  you,"  interrupted  the  Minor 
Canon,  "  that  your  own  words  may  be  used  against 
you  on  your  trial,  and  may  help  to  incriminate  you. 
Remember  that !  " 

"  Do  you  think  I  care  to  live,  now  that  she  is  dead  ?  " 
he  answered,  "  the  law  can  only  take  my  life,  and  that 
is  of  no  value  to  me — nay,  it  is  hated  by  me.  If  the 
law  should  spare  me,  I  would  take  it  myself." 

The  Minor  Canon  turned  sick,  almost  paralysed 
with  horror.  How  terrible  was  all  this  !  Where  were 
his  hopes  that  the  sinner  was  penitent  and  longed  to  be 
forgiven  ?  In  his  love  for  truth,  and  strict  conscien 
tiousness,  he  feared  it  might  be  his  duty  to  disabuse 
him  of  his  delusion,  and  prove  to  him  beyond  doubt, 
that  the  girl  lived.  And  yet,  what  awful  consequences 
might  ensue  if  he  did  so  ?  He  did  not  dare,  and  he  could 
not  go,  for  a  sort  of  fascination  rooted  him  to  the  spot. 

"  What  shall  we  call  my  story  ?  "  said  the  prisoner, 
reflectively,  as  if  that  were  the  only  matter  for  con 
sideration  and  thought.  "  We  must  give  it  a  title, 
you  know.  Ha !  I  have  it.  '  The  Secret  of  the  Grave.' 
A  charming  title,  is  it  not  ?  At  once  mysterious  and 
attractive.  '  The  Secret  of  the  Grave,'  therefore." 

Sitting  opposite  him,  filled  with  terror,  and  yet 
compelled  to  listen,  almost  against  his  will,  the  Minor 


i86          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

Canon,  leaning  forward  on  the  chair,  with  fascinated 
eyes  upon  the  prisoner,  heard  this  horrible  confession. 

"  '  To  begin  at  the  beginning/  as  the  story-tellers 
say,  I  must  go  back  a  long  way — back  to  the  time  when 
I  was  a  boy,  about  ten  or  eleven  years  of  age,  and  my 
nephew,  Edwin  Drood,  a  little  child.  Looking  back  to 
that  time,  with  intent  to  realise  what  sort  of  a  boy  I 
was,  I  can  only  remember  one  thing  with  any  degree  of 
clearness.  Standing  out  like  a  vivid  light  athwart 
the  dull  gloom  and  sameness  of  my  uninteresting  and 
hopeless  boyhood — I  still  see  its  reflection — intense  and 
concentrated  as  my  nature,  one  feeling  rose  dominant 
to  all  others,  and  seemed  the  only  emotion  of  which 
at  that  time  I  was  capable — a  feeling  of  passionate 
hatred  towards — you  will  be  surprised  to  hear  it,  for 
you  thought  I  loved  him — towards  that  child. 

"  I  was  a  quiet,  reserved,  obstinate  boy,  unamiable 
and  little  beloved  ;  and  he  was  outspoken,  frank  and 
free  ;  in  all  respects  my  opposite.  Many  a  time,  when 
I  had  been  punished  (and  I  was  punished  often,  and 
often  unjustly,  for  I  was  too  proud  to  clear  myself, 
even  when  I  could),  my  disciplinarians  would  say : 
'  Shame  on  you  !  Look  at  little  Edwin  !  Take  pattern 
by  little  Edwin — so  much  younger,  so  much  more 
amiable  and  tractable !  '  Many  a  time  (we  were 
brought  up  together,  as  you  know,  for  I  was  still  earlier 
left  an  orphan  than  he)  when  we  had  been  engaged  in 
some  boyish  mischief,  in  which,  although  six  years 
younger,  he  was  always  the  ringleader — I  only  took 
part  in  it  in  hopes  of  bringing  him  into  trouble — I  was 
invariably  the  one  to  suffer  for  it.  He  would  wheedle, 
and  coax,  and  sob,  and  pray  to  be  forgiven,  and  promise 
never  to  do  so  any  more — a  promise  made  to  be  broken. 
Then  he  would  be  kissed,  and  loved,  and  petted,  the 
while  the  chorus  would  arise  and  swell  again — *  What  a 
difference  there  is  between  the  two  !  What  a  loving 
heart  this  child  has,  and  what  a  hard  one  the  other !  ' 
No  torture  would  have  induced  me  to  sue  for  forgive- 


<4THE    SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      187 

ness,  and  they  knew  it.  And  when  my  nephew, 
witnessing  my  punishment,  and  knowing  well  how  to 
curry  favour,  would  cry  out,  weeping — he  always 
pretended  to  be  generous — that  it  was  he  who  was  the 
most  to  blame,  and  that  they  must  whip  him,  and  not 
me — louder  and  more  vehemently  than  ever  he  would 
be  praised  and  caressed.  '  Bless  the  little  darling ! 
Learn  to  imitate  him,  bad,  hard-hearted  boy — him, 
so  much  younger  and  so  much  better  !  '  So  they  sowed 
diligently  the  seeds  of  hatred  in  my  heart,  and 
wondered,  miserable  fools  !  to  see  them  spring  up 
and  grow." 

"  But  this  feeling  towards  an  innocent  child  is  dread 
ful  !"-«exclaimed  the  Minor  Canon,  as  the  prisoner  paused 
with  glowing  eyes,  out  of  which  the  old  hatred  gleamed 
so  fiercely  still,  that  it  was  evident  that  neither  death 
nor  the  grave  between  them  had  been  able  to  quench 
it ;  "  this  is  dreadful,  Jasper  ;  base  and  wicked  !  "  * 

"  This  is  nothing,"  said  the  prisoner,  mockingly. 
"  Strengthen  your  nerves,  revd.  sir,  which  seem 
remarkably  weak,  with  a  glass  of  wine  before  I  pro 
ceed.  There  is  a  bottle  of  wine  and  a  glass  upon  the 
table  there.  I  am  coming  now  to  the  full-grown  hatred 
of  the  man,  to  which  the  boyish  feeling  will  bear  no 
comparison.  The  plant  was  a  tender  plant  as  yet, 
might  have  been  torn  up  by  the  roots  still ;  but  it  had 
been  planted  in  fruitful  ground,  and,  carefully  nourished 
and  nurtured  as  it  was  on  every  side,  it  grew  and 
flourished  mightily. 

"  Strange  enough,  though  I  hated  the  boy,  ever 
more  and  more — for  all  things  favoured  him — he  loved 
me,  or  rather,  pretended  to  love  me.  '  Let  Jack  have 
some  of  it,'  was  his  cry  from  infancy.  It  was  a 
cunning  device  to  win  praise  and  love  from  others, 
but  I  saw  through  it  plainly,  and  it  never  won  me. 
Yet,  as  time  wore  on,  and  I  grew  older,  came  greater 
depth  of  reflection,  more  subtlety  of  thought,  and  I 
began  to  see,  that  to  exhibit  this  feeling  of  hatred  to  the 


i88          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

world  was  to  put  it  out  of  my  power  to  do  him  any  real 
harm.  I  had  only  been  as  a  dark  background,  and 
shown  up  more  clearly,  by  comparison,  his  beauty 
and  his  light.  In  appearing  openly  as  his  enemy, 
I  should  only  succeed  in  having  him  taken  from  me 
and  well  protected  on  every  hand.  In  order  to  injure 
him,  I  must  pretend  to  be  his  friend ;  for  only  thus 
could  I  gain  the  opportunity  and  power  to  stab  him  in 
the  dark. 

"  Pretence  was  not  so  easy  to  me  as  it  was  to  him, 
for  I  possessed  a  sullen  and  obdurate  nature,  which 
would  rather  break  than  bend  ;  but  I  had  sense  enough 
to  perceive  clearly  that  I  must  abandon  my  former 
habit  of  continually  wounding  him  slightly  now,  in  order 
to  wound  him  to  death  hereafter.  And,  conquering 
the  difficulties,  which  my  own  disposition  raised  up  to 
baffle  me,  I  did  so  with  a  steadiness  of  purpose,  and 
relentlessness  of  determination,  rarely  to  be  found  in  a 
boy,  and  in  which  I  glory  still." 

That  he  did,  was  evident  from  the  look  of  triumph 
in  his  face  ;  apparent  even  in  the  gloom  of  the  prison. 
With  raised  head,  smiling  lips,  and  dilated  nostrils,  he 
continued. 

"  I  played  my  cards  well,  and  won,  as  every  man  can 
win,  if  he  has  strength  of  mind  to  will  with  purpose. 
First,  they  said,  I  was  improving,  then,  improved. 
Instead  of  a  perpetual  warning  to  Edwin,  I  became, 
in  one  respect,  a  sort  of  model,  in  my  turn.  Jack  was  a 
living  example  of  the  benefits  arising  from  a  strict  and 
rigorous  discipline.  The  correcting  rod  had  not  been 
spared  in  the  case  of  Jack  (Heaven  knows  it  had  not !) 
and  the  child  was  saved.  Jack  was  not  quite  the 
reprobate  and  fool  he  had  been  believed  to  be.  He  had 
one  talent,  at  least,  that  he  had  not  buried  in  a  napkin. 
The  petted,  indulged,  charming  boy  had  to  play  second 
fiddle  to  Jack  in  one  repsect.  Jack  could  sing,  and 
Jack  could  play,  and  did  play,  on  the  old  piano  of  his 
dead  sister,  Edwin's  mother,  always  better  and  better, 


"THE   SECRET  OF  THE   GRAVE"      189 

The  son  and  heir  felt  no  jealousy,  of  course,  not  even 
now.  The  same  tune  that  he  had  sung  as  a  baby, 
he  sung  again.  This  is  how  the  melody  ran  :  *  Let 
Jack  learn,  papa.'  Bah,  I  sicken  at  the  sound  of  it ! 
But  I  kept  my  own  counsel.  I  took  the  crusts,  as  I  had 
taken  the  kicks,  in  deferential  silence,  and  licked  the 
hands  of  my  benefactors. 

"  So  they  let  Jack  learn,  and  why  ?  Surely  the 
answer  is  plain,  and  easy  to  be  understood.  Jack  had 
been  eating  the  bread  of  idleness  long  enough,  and 
must  learn  to  earn  it.  Jack  must  not  be  a  burden  upon 
Edwin.  Jack  might  make  a  very  good  music-master, 
and  give  capital  interest  for  the  money  invested  in  him. 
Thus  this  poor  Jack,  in  whom  burned  the  light  of 
genius,  was  to  be  shackled  and  hindered  from  spreading 
his  wings  for  flight.  If  Jack  needed  nourishment,  let 
him  devour  his  own  heart,  and  relish  the  diet,  if  he 
could." 

"  Oh,  Jasper,  Jasper ;  how  wickedly  you  pervert 
and  distort  the  facts  you  relate  !  I  knew  your  brother- 
in-law,  and  respected  him,  and  am  sure  that  he  meant 
you  only  kindness.  I  knew  your  murdered  nephew, 
whom  you  so  cruelly  and  foully  wrong,  and  am  sure  that 
he  truly  loved  you." 

For  a  moment,  the  prisoner  eyed  the  Minor  Canon 
with  an  evil  and  lowering  eye,  then  sneered  contemp 
tuously.  "  Why  should  I  argue  with  you  ?  Why  be 
angry  with  one  born  blind,  because  he  cannot  see  ? 
Our  allotted  time  is  not  endless,  and  I  have  much  more 
to  tell  you. 

"  About  this  period,  I  think  Edwin  must  have  been 
about  nine  years  of  age,  and  I,  fifteen,  something 
occurred  which  made  me  forget  my  hate — forget  every 
thing  but  the  one  thing.  You  remember  the  death  of 
her — her  mother.  Mr.  Bud,  an  intimate  friend  of  my 
brother-in-law's,  had  lost  his  beautiful  young  wife  by 
drowning,  and  my  brother-in-law  frequently  went  to 
comfort  him  in  his  bereavement.  After  a  time  he  began 


A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

to  return  these  visits  (I  remember  him  as  a  young  man, 
bowed  down  with  the  intensity  of  his  grief ;  he  followed 
her,  a  year  later),  bringing  his  little  girl,  from  whom  he 
was  inseparable,  with  him. 

"  At  the  sight  of  this  child,  at  the  very  first  sight, 
I  do  believe,  I  learned  that  my  heart  was  capable  of 
another  feeling,  a  passion,  stronger  and  more  powerful 
than  even  hate ;  for  the  hatred,  which  had  before 
absorbed  my  every  faculty,  finding  itself,  for  the  first 
tune,  unheeded  and  unfed,  shrank  away  abashed, 
leaving  my  heart  free  for  its  great  adversary  which, 
entering  in  triumph,  began  to  reign  there  in  its  stead. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  love  means  in  the  mouth  of 
another  man,  for  I  have  little  experience  of  my  fellow 
creatures.  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  explain  even  what 
it  means  in  mine.  I  only  know  that,  for  the  first  time, 
I  realized  that  I  was  a  creature  born  for  all  eternity, 
because  this  new  feeling,  new  to  me  and  yet  as  old  as 
God,  must  live  for  ever. 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  this  emotion  sprang  at 
its  birth  into  full  maturity.  That  would  be  unnatural 
and  absurd,  and  no  one  would  believe  that  a  little  girl, 
a  child,  could  awaken  such  a  feeling,  but  it  drew  its 
first  breath  of  life  at  sight  of  her,  and  in  course  of  time 
has  grown  to  what  it  is.  And  in  my  heart,  filled  to  the 
brim  jwith  this  strange,  ineffable  delight,  there  was  no 
longer  room  for  hate — it  either  withdrew  altogether 
to  make  way  for  the  new  occupant,  or,  dissolving  in  its 
presence,  melted  into  love." 

Tears  sprang  to  the  Minor  Canon's  eyes,  tears  of  hot 
sympathy.  Forgetting  how  stained  was  the  hand  of  the 
speaker,  he  stretched  out  his  own  to  grasp  it.  He  was 
coldly  and  contemptuously  repulsed,  and  in  an  unmoved 
and  unfaltering  voice,  the  prisoner  continued — 

"  I  was  happy  then.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life 
I  understood  that  happiness  was  not  an  idle  word,  a 
pretty  fable,  but  a  wonderful  reality.  I  had  found  an 
object  in  life ;  something  to  live  for ;  something  to 


'THE    SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      191 

attain ;  and  I  worked  hard,  and  worked  earnestly  to 
attain  it.  They  praised  me  all,  my  masters  and  my 
rulers,  and  acknowledged  that  I  did  them  credit ;  but 
my  highest  reward  was  to  see  my  child  goddess 
standing  still  to  listen  when  I  sang,  with  bright  eyes 
wide  with  wonder,  and  to  know  that  I — that  I,  had 
power  to  entrance  her.  Oh,  for  one  short  space  of 
time  I  was  truly  happy  !  " 

His  voice  grew  dreamy  and  he  closed  his  eyes  for  a 
moment,  as  if  he  would  recall  the  old  time  when  he 
had  felt  this  bliss  and  was  innocent.  When  he  opened 
them  again,  the  Minor  Canon  fancied  that  they  glistened 
through  unshed  tears,  and  his  voice  trembled  as  he 
went  on  hurriedly,  as  if  afraid  of  his  resolution  faltering. 

"  I  can  see  her  now,  as  she  was  then — so  plainly,  that 
she  might  be  standing  by  me  in  the  prison.  Not  one 
of  your  pink  and  white  bits  of  goodness.  A  resolute 
child ;  quick  to  anger,  and  quick  to  penitence.  A 
child  far  oftener  naughty  than  good  ;  far  oftener  wilful 
than  obedient.  Restless  and  impatient  of  control,  she 
would  have  galled  herself  against  the  curb,  but  answered 
to  the  slightest  touch  of  the  reins  in  the  hands  of  love. 
I  used  to  laugh  inwardly  over  the  wisdom  of  my  own 
masters  and  rulers  who,  wagging  together  their  solemn 
heads  in  counsel,  would  resolve  that  the  same  strict 
and  rigorous  discipline,  which  had  made  of  the  reprobate 
Jack  such  a  bright  and  shining  light,  ought  to  be  applied 
to  the  baby  rebel,  who  so  saucily  defied  them.  Idiots  ! 
they  might  have  disciplined  her  to  death,  but  would 
never  have  broken  her  in.  Fortunately  for  her,  her 
destiny,  kinder  than  mine,  did  not  deliver  her  into  their 
hands. 

"  I  can  see  her  now,  with  her  small  face,  so  changeful 
in  expression,  so  wondrously  beautiful,  that  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  every  change  increased  its  magical  charm  ; 
now  flushed  with  hot  anger  ;  now  paling,  as  her  tender 
heart  told  her  that  she  had  grieved  her  dearly  loved 
and  sorrowful  papa ;  now  frowning  over  some  trifle 


192          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

not  to  her  liking ;  now  dimpled  with  laughter,  and 
mischief ;  now  bathed  in  tears.  Every  time  more 
beautiful  than  it  had  been  before.  Always,  from  the 
very  first,  my  ideal  of  beauty,  my  only  one,  from  the 
first  and  to  the  last. 

' '  I  could  have  laboured  a  life-time  for  her  possession, 
content  with  the  certainty  of  my  reward  at  its  end. 
I  would  have  granted  my  nephew  anything,  everything 
else  that  fate  could  give  him.  Riches,  goodwill,  love, 
happiness.  Let  him  keep  his  flocks  and  herds  !  I  only 
asked  to  be  allowed  to  earn  my  one  little  ewe-lamb." 

He  stopped,  for  thick  drops  of  sweat  stood  on  his  pale 
forehead,  even  in  the  chilly  atmosphere,  and  the  foam 
gathered  round  his  lips.  Fierce  and  furious  boiled 
within  him  the  fury  and  passion  he  had  been  compelled 
to  subdue  so  long,  and  some  minutes  passed  before  he 
could  proceed. 

"  Although  I  always  felt  sure  that  she  would  be 
mine,  yet  sometimes  the  old  jealousy  and  hate  towards 
my  nephew  struggled  to  regain  possession  of  my  heart. 
When  I  sang,  she  would  listen  speechless  with  delight, 
at  a  distance  ;  but  when  I  ended,  she  was  gone.  She 
never  fondled  or  caressed  me,  as  she  did  almost  every 
one  else  ;  but  she  never  teased  me,  either.  She  would 
play  with  Edwin,  and  quarrel  with  him  often.  I  have 
seen  her  (watching  them  both  hungrily  from  a  spot 
where  they  could  not  see  me)  slap  him  smartly  with  her 
tiny  hand  ;  scold  him  vigorously  with  her  baby  voice  ; 
but  I  have  seen  her  kiss  him,  too.  I  can  feel  the  pang 
now  as  I  felt  it  each  time  then,  when  I  saw  her  raise  her 
rosy  lips,  although  his  touched  them  so  carelessly. 

"  Not  that  I  wanted  to  kiss  her  myself — not  yet ; 
but  I  could  not  bear  others  to  do  so,  and  particularly, 
I  could  not  bear  it  from  him.  I  meant  to  kiss  her  in 
the  time  to  come  ;  I,  as  man,  she,  as  woman  ;  and  to 
have  done  so  now  would  have  been,  to  my  mind,  like 
foolishly  quaffing  the  juice  of  the  grape  before  it  had 
undergone  that  wonderful  transformation  into  wine — 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      193 

like  plucking  the  bud  before  it  had  ripened  into  the 
flower. 

"  You  remember,  sir,  as  I  said  before,  that  Mr.  Bud 
died  of  grief  a  year  after  his  wife,  and  that  the  child  was 
left  an  orphan.  She  was  put  to  school,  as  you  know, 
and  for  many  a  long  year  I  saw  her  no  more.  Edwin 
and  Edwin's  father  went  to  visit  her  sometimes,  but  I 
never  accompanied  them.  There  was  a  kind  of  under 
talk  even  then  that  the  little  folk  were  intended  for  a 
pair,  but  I  neither  listened  to  it,  nor  heeded  it.  I  made 
so  sure,  you  see,  that  she  must  and  would  be  mine — so 
sure,  that  at  the  end  of  the  long  years  of  hard  and 
earnest  work  to  win  means  and  a  position  to  lay  at  her 
feet,  I  had  only  to  go  and  claim  her. 

"  My  diligence  and  untiring  industry  were  rewarded 
at  last  by  an  appointment  which  would  enable  me  to 
earn  my  bread,  if  not  brilliantly,  at  any  rate,  creditably 
and  decently.  I  was  elected  choir-master  of  the 
Cathedral  in  Cloisterham,  and,  in  addition  to  this,  there 
was  a  large  connection  in  the  matter  of  private  pupils. 
I  was  a  clever  and  careful  master,  and  so  discreet  and 
sedate  with  the  young  ladies,  that  my  praises  were  on 
every  tongue.  I  doubled  the  connection,  and  if  I 
could  have  doubled  myself,  should  still  have  had  enough 
to  do.  I  was  no  bad  looking  fellow,  either.  Straight 
and  well-built,  dark-haired,  dark-eyed,  with  even, 
regular  features,  and  teeth  white  and  polished  as 
ivory,  I  was  looked  upon  with  no  unfavourable  eye 
by  many  of  my  older  female  pupils,  and  pretty  plainly 
given  to  understand  sometimes  that,  if  I  chose  to  make 
love  to  them,  I  might  do  so  with  impunity  ;  but  they 
were  one  and  all  powerless  either  to  please  my  fancy,  or 
to  touch  my  heart.  I  cannot  even  remember  how  they 
looked,  or  which  among  them  was  dark,  or  which  was 
fair.  To  me  they  were  only  dull  blocks  of  humanity, 
into  whom  I  had  to  instil,  if  possible,  with  infinite 
labour  and  endless  drudgery,  some  idea  of  melody,  some 
notion  of  tune,  and  I  doubt  if  even  one  of  their  own  sex 


I94          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

would  have  been  so  totally  indifferent  to  their  charms 
as  I  was.  I  never  felt  that  they  were  flesh  and  blood  : 
there  existed  for  me  but  one  woman  in  the  world. 

"  Shortly  after  my  installation  in  Cloisterham, 
Edwin's  father  died.  I  was  considered  now  in  the  light 
of  a  rising  man ;  I  was  esteemed  and  respected.  I 
lived  a  sober,  serious  life,  free  from  vice  and  dissolute 
ness,  and  not  even  the  most  evil-conditioned  tongue 
ventured  to  wag  to  my  discredit.  My  brother-in-law, 
apparently  fully  satisfied  as  to  my  intrinsic  merits,  had 
appointed  me  in  his  will  guardian  to  his  only  child — 
had  commended  him  to  my  love,  and,  in  addition  to 
this,  had  left  me  a  small  sum  of  money  as  executor, 
and  his  blessing.  His  blessing,  you  understand,  after 
having  delivered  me  over  in  my  childhood  and  boyhood 
to  the  tender  mercies  of  those  masters  and  rulers  of  mine. 
Well,  I  knew  how  to  be  grateful. 

"  I  had  played  my  part  so  well,  that  every  one  felt 
it  to  be  the  most  natural  and  satisfactory  thing  in  the 
world  that  I  should  have  been  chosen  for  this  post.  I 
had  played  it  so  well,  that  the  whole  town,  and  you 
also,  thought  I  had  abandoned  my  own  claims  on  youth 
and  happiness,  and  only  lived  for  him.  So  I  did.  So 
I  did ! 

"It  was  then  I  became  aware,  for  the  first  time  with 
certainty,  that  there  had  been  truth  in  those  whispered 
reports,  that  my  nephew  was  intended  for  the  girl  I 
loved.  There  had  been  a  sort  of  betrothal  between 
them,  even  during  the  lifetime  of  Mr.  Drood,  in  accord 
ance  with  his  earnest  wish,  and  in  consequence  of  the 
plans  which  both  parents  had  fondly  cherished  before 
Mr.  Bud  died. 

"  The  children,  knowing  nothing  of  what  love  meant, 
yet  tickled  and  elated  at  the  prospect,  charming  to  their 
inexperience,  had  consented  willingly — she  as  well  as 
he.  I  shall  never  forget  the  insolent  arrogance  with 
which  he  boasted  about  this  betrothal,  and  of  his  power 
over  her.  I  shall  never  forget  the  way  in  which  he 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      195 

would  talk  of  restraining  her  here,  and  hampering  her 
there — showing  in  every  word  and  look  how  much  he 
felt  himself  the  lord  and  master.  I  shall  never  forget 
how  he  traduced  her  lovely  face,  openly  exposing  to 
the  rude  gaze  of  others,  in  a  portrait,  an  expression 
which  his  own  treatment  roused  there;  a  hint — he 
called  it — a  hint  to  model  herself  after  his  liking. 
What  a  difference  between  us  !  /  did  not  wish  to  be 
her  master,  only  her  humblest  slave. 

"  The  knowledge  that  I  should  have  to  struggle  with 
him  for  her  possession  neither  surprised  nor  discom 
posed  me  much.  It  was  a  natural  sequence  to  our 
lives  as  yet,  in  which  he  had  had  all  the  good  things, 
and  I  all  the  evil  ones.  And  perhaps  there  would  be 
no  need  of  struggling.  He  had  no  character  at  all ;  was 
as  easy  to  move  as  a  bit  of  straw,  carried  in  a  different 
direction  with  every  puff  of  wind — but  she  had  plenty. 
The  time  would  come  when  the  breath  of  love  would 
be  breathed  into  her  slumbering  heart,  and  it  would 
awake  out  of  its  torpor  ;  she  would  know  then  that  she 
could  never  love  him ;  would  feel  the  fetters,  would 
throw  them  off  (I  knew  how  the  least  control  irritated 
her  of  old),  and  would  be  free  again.  The  time  would 
come,  and  I  could  bide  it. 

"  In  the  meantime  she  had  become  my  pupil,  and  in 
the  first  joy  of  these  weekly  meetings,  I  forgot  all  else. 
To  sit  by  her  side,  close,  close  to  her,  to  feel  the  fragrance 
of  her  breath,  to  even  touch  her  sometimes,  were 
delights  so  great,  so  inexpressible,  that  I  wonder  I  did 
not  die  for  very  rapture.  Every  nerve,  aroused  to  a 
thousand  times  its  normal  sensitiveness,  quivered  and 
tingled  for  joy  in  her  presence  with  an  intensity  which 
bordered  on — nay,  was — absolute  pain. 

"  Nevertheless,  as  the  time  went  on,  I  began  to  feel 
some  anxiety  and  some  uneasiness.  For  her  heart, 
even  in  the  atmosphere  of  my  passionate  love,  gave 
no  sign  of  life.  If  it  had  been  roused,  of  which  I  was 
not  sure,  it  feigned  still  to  sleep.  Only  one  thing  gave 


196          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

me  comfort — she  had  begun  to  feel  the  shackles  in 
which  she  was  bound,  and  to  chafe  against  them.  The 
discontented  expression  which  my  nephew  had  repre 
sented,  with  such  coarse  truthfulness  in  his  portrait  of 
her  lovely  face,  deepened  sometimes  into  actual  un- 
happiness.  I  have  seen  her  look  at  me  with  fear  and 
dread,  and  I  knew  she  quarrelled  incessantly  with  her 
betrothed :  he  would  return  to  me  after  an  interview 
with  her,  to  complain  of  her  treatment  of  him,  and 
with  his  vanity  and  self-conceit — the  only  qualities  he 
possessed — sharply  wounded.  However  much  he  still 
boasted  of  mastering  her,  when  she  was  his  wife,  it  was 
plain  to  see  that  she  lorded  it  over  him  finely  now. 
But  for  all  this — and  it  was  that  which  caused  me 
unspeakable  concern — they  always  made  it  up  again, 
with  tears  and  kisses. 

"  Then  I  began  to  feel  that  this  betrothal,  which  I 
had  almost  viewed  in  the  light  of  a  safeguard,  preventing 
others  from  aspiring  to  her  charms,  grew  into  a  real  and 
imminent  danger.  The  time  appointed  for  their  union 
was  no  longer  in  the  far  distance,  but  close  at  hand, 
and  her  heart  slept,  to  all  appearance,  still.  I  knew  it 
would — must,  wake  up  some  time  or  other  ;  but  what 
could  it  avail  me — what  avail  her  ?  if  it  woke  up  too 
late  ?  And  to  have  known  her  in  the  possession  of 
another,  even  for  a  single  hour,  would  have  driven  me 
mad. 

"  I  had  always  hated  him  :  for  the  old  boyish  hatred, 
driven  away  for  a  time  by  the  new  emotion,  had  soon 
proved  itself  only  stunned  and  not  dead,  and  resumed 
dominion  of  me.  Besides,  his  lips  had  ventured  to 
steal  kisses  from  the  sweet  lips  of  my  love,  and  that  was 
an  offence  in  my  eyes  never  to  be  blotted  out.  I  had 
resolved,  long  before,  smarting  with  indignation  at 
witnessing  the  robbery,  that  he  should  pay  a  heavy 
heavy  price  for  those  kisses,  when  my  time  came. 

"  But  hatred  is  not  murder — only  the  road  to  it ; 
and  whoever  traverses  that  road,  may  know  what  he 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE'1      197 

will  come  to  at  the  end.  Therefore  I,  who  had  been 
walking  on  it  so  long,  saw  the  last  stage  of  the  journey 
close  before  me,  and  saw  it,  hardly  appalled,  and  no 
whit  amazed. 

"  Clear  him  out  of  the  way  ?  It  was  only  the 
question  :  either  he  or  I,  and  self-preservation  is  the 
first  law  of  Nature.  Clear  away  the  obstacles  which 
hemmed  the  current  of  my  life  ?  Yes,  I  would.  But 
how  ? 

"  I  felt  no  remorse,  and  certainly  no  tenderness 
towards  him,  and  yet  some  feeling  or  wish  to  give  him 
one  more  chance,  made  me  warn  him  of  the  danger  he 
was  incurring.  I  did  warn  him  once  or  twice,  but  he 
was  too  entirely  the  fool  to  comprehend  me.  I  could 
not  help  that,  and  when  you  condemn  me,  as  men  of 
your  sort  are  sure  to  condemn,  remember  that  I  warned 
him." 

The  Minor  Canon  had  covered  his  face  with  his  hand, 
as  if  he  could  not  bear  to  look  at  the  man  before  him. 
He  tried  to  speak,  in  answer  to  this  direct  appeal,  but 
the  words  died  away  upon  his  agitated  lips,  and  the 
effort  almost  choked  him.  He  could  only  bow  his  head 
in  response. 

"  There  have  been  times,  I  tell  you,"  continued  the 
prisoner,  "  when  I  have  undergone  absolute  agony, 
not  because  my  soul  revolted  against  the  idea  of 
murdering  him,  but  because  I  could  hardly  await  in 
patience  the  fitting  hour  to  do  it. 

"  There  have  been  times,  when,  as  he  sat  before  me, 
puffed  up  with  pride  and  miserable  self-conceit ;  gloat 
ing  over,  and  boasting  of  his  good  luck  and  fortune, 
which  he  had  never  raised  a  lazy  hand  to  earn,  and  yet 
accepted  as  his  unquestionable  due — when  I  have  been 
hardly  able  to  resist  the  strong  impulse  to  blot  out  all 
youth  and  beauty  from  his  insolent  face,  with  my  heavy 
fist  upon  it,  and  trample  him  to  death  then  and  there. 

"  I  laid  my  plans  wilily.  The  first  necessity  was  to 
avert  all  suspicion  from  myself,  and  throw  it  upon 


igS          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

another.  This  was  difficult,  because  the  boy — curse 
him  ! — had  no  enemies  besides  me.  This  caused  me  so 
much  anxious  consideration  and  thought  that  I  was 
obliged  to  resort  to  artificial  means  (I  took  to  smoking 
opium)  to  gain  rest  and  ease. 

"  But  fortune  favoured  me,  or  rather,  the  devil,  who 
always  can  find  his  followers  materials  for  carrying  out 
any  such  a  purpose,  and  I  soon  alighted  upon  a  tool, 
which  would  suit  me  to  perfection.  I  allude,  sir,  to  your 
dark-haired,  dark-skinned,  hot-blooded  young  Indian. 

"  The  first  time  I  met  him  at  your  house,  I  had  my 
eye  upon  him.  He  was  a  young  man,  and  a  handsome  ; 
and  every  human  being  of  the  male  sex,  possessing 
these  advantages,  and  brought  into  contact  with 
my  love,  was  an  object  of  suspicion  to  me.  I  soon 
observed  that  he  was  struck  and  fascinated  by  her 
beauty  ;  and  that  was  enough  to  make  me  hate  him. 
I  soon  observed  that  he  was  not  favourably  disposed 
towards  my  nephew,  for  the  same  reason  that  I  was  not ; 
and  then  I  knew  that  I  had  found  my  tool,  and  that 
it  only  wanted  sharpening.  That  evening  I  resolved 
to  lose  no  time  in  sharpening  it. 

"  The  young  men  accompanied  the  ladies  to  '  The 
Nuns'  House '  that  evening,  as  you  have  reason  to 
remember,  Mr.  Crisparkle,  and  I  slunk,  unobserved, 
behind  them.  They  came  back  alone,  together,  all 
unconscious  of  my  proximity  ;  and  very  soon,  to  my 
great  satisfaction,  I  heard  them  begin  to  quarrel,  as  I 
had  foreseen  they  would. 

"  I  had  let  them  come  to  hot  and  angry  words  before 
I  interposed,  and  then,  coming  up  behind  them,  as  if 
by  purest  accident,  I  discreetly  dropped  some  oil  into 
the  smouldering  fire,  until  it  blazed  up  again  fierce 
and  high. 

"  Pretending  to  be  shocked,  I  endeavoured  to  restore 
peace  between  them — apparently  successfully — and 
then  I  invited  them  to  enter  my  lodging  and  drink 
together  a  friendly  glass  of  wine  as  a  sign  of  complete 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      199 

reconciliation.    They  could  not  well  decline  to  do  so, 
and  they  came. 

"  I  drugged  the  wine,  and  by  a  little  skilful  man 
oeuvring  soon  had  them  by  the  ears  again.  My  work 
was  ridiculously  easy.  If  I  had  chosen,  Mr.  Crisparkle, 
I  might  have  had  murder  in  my  house  that  evening, 
for  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  separate  them.  But  the  time 
for  carrying  out  my  scheme  was  not  fully  ripe,  and 
besides,  there  must  be  no  chance  of  his  escaping,  any 
way.  No  possibility  of  his  being  only  half  killed  and 
recovering.  I  must  make  quite  sure  of  that. 

"  The  next  day  I  had  enough  to  do  in  spreading  the 
news,  and  in  making  sure — without  myself  being  a  too 
active  propagator — that  the  whole  town  should  hear, 
and  what  was  more,  digest  it. 

"  I  foresaw  that  you,  sir,  would  keep  your  own 
counsel,  and  that  shame  would  tie  the  young  men's 
tongues. 

"  I  succeeded  again  beyond  expectation.  The  whole 
town  learned  that  young  Mr.  Landless  had  made  a 
murderous  attack  upon  my  nephew ;  and  also,  what 
was  of  far  more  importance,  why  he  had  done  so. 
Even  the  noddle-headed  inhabitants  of  Cloisterham 
understood  that,  although  every  means  would  be  taken 
to  keep  the  young  men  apart,  and  to  avoid  a  collision 
between  them,  the  cause  of  enmity  still  existed,  and 
that  any  moment  might  bring  a  second  explosion." 

"  He  told  me  there  was  something  amiss  with  the 
wine,"  murmured  the  horror-struck  clergyman,  "  and 
I  did  not  believe  him.  Poor,  poor  Neville  !  " 

"  Aye,  poor,  poor  Neville,"  repeated  the  prisoner, 
bitterly,  "  and  never,  poor  Jasper.  And  yet  I  had  been 
suffering  worse  torments  than  any  Tantalus,  ever  since 
my  childhood.  What  were  his  sufferings  compared  to 
mine  ?  A  mere  drop  in  the  ocean — a  mere  nothing." 

There  was  silence  in  the  cell  for  a  few  moments  after 
this.  The  Minor  Canon  was  too  appalled  to  speak, 
even  if  any  words  could  have  been  of  avail  with  this 


200          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

man  ;  while  the  prisoner  tried  to  subdue  his  rising  anger. 
Then  John  Jasper's  voice  rose  again. 

"  My  tool  finely  sharpened,  and  ready  to  my  hand, 
I  had  only  to  consider  further  in  reference  to  it — 
when  and  where  ?  These  questions  were  so  trivial 
and  so  easy  to  be  solved,  that  I  put  them  aside  for  a 
time  and  devoted  the  whole  of  my  attention  to  the  last 
point,  and  the  most  important  one.  What  was  to  be 
done  with  the  body  ? 

"  I  had  read  so  often,  and  heard  so  often,  how  very, 
very  frequently  the  discovery  of  the  real  murderer 
followed  the  discovery  of  the  corpse,  that  I  felt  I  must 
give  most  close  and  earnest  attention  to  this  particular. 
A  few  hairs,  a  scrap  of  clothing,  a  footmark,  a  trifle 
forgotten  in  the  agitation  of  the  moment,  a  speck  of 
blood — had  one  and  all  been  proved  sufficient  to  turn 
attention  towards  the  real  murderer,  even  though  he 
had  laid  traps  and  pitfalls  for  another  with  a  wary  hand ; 
and  had,  on  thousands  of  occasions,  led  to  his  ruin. 

"  To  prevent  this  in  my  case — to  prevent  the  possi 
bility  of  this,  the  body  must  be  buried,  or  destroyed  so 
effectually  as  to  spoil  its  chance  of  ever,  pieced  or 
whole,  bones  or  flesh,  reappearing  before  the  eyes  of  men. 
The  river  might  cast  it  upon  its  banks,  the  ocean  upon  its 
shore,  dogs  might  scent  it  in  its  newly-dug  grave,  fire 
prove  incapable  to  destroy  it.  Again,  absorbing  my 
every  faculty  by  night  and  by  day,  came  the  perplexing 
query  :  How  ? 

"  I  racked  my  weary  brain  to  find  an  answer,  but  for 
a  long  time  without  success.  Many  ideas  occurred  to 
me,  but  only,  after  careful  test,  to  be  rejected  as  im 
practicable.  I  had  smoked  opium  moderately  before  ; 
I  took  to  smoking  it  immoderately  now,  in  order  to 
irritate  my  brain  into  compliance  with  the  demand 
upon  it ;  sometimes  so  immoderately  that  it  refused  to 
work  altogether  for  a  time,  and  I  sank  into  lethargy. 

"  I  thought  about  it  during  my  daily  drudgery ;  in 
the  company  of  my  nephew ;  even  by  her  side.  I 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      201 

thought  about  it  in  the  Cathedral,  chanting  or  singing, 
and  when  my  voice  resounded  through  the  ancient  pile, 
moving  others  to  tears,  and  to  increased  earnestness 
in  their  devotions,  I  knew  what  it  was  asking,  ever 
and  always — How  shall  I  do  it  ?  how  shall  I  do 
it? 

"  At  last  the  answer  came  to  me  suddenly,  with  the 
recollection  of  an  interview  I  had  had  some  time  before 
with  a  man,  the  most  unlikely  in  the  world  to  be  the 
suggestor  of  an  idea.  And  yet,  in  a  manner,  he  had 
been,  though  unconsciously. 

"  I  had  for  some  time  past,  in  pursuance  of  my  one 
plan,  endeavoured  to  ingratiate  myself  with  the  more 
influential  inhabitants  of  the  town — and  so  had  brought 
myself  into  contact  with  one  who,  by  reason  of  his 
innate  stupidity,  I  suppose  (for  I  know  no  other), 
had  attained  a  high — and  was  destined  to  attain  a  still 
higher — position  in  the  place.  The  immediate  result 
was  a  dreary  supper,  and  a  still  drearier  conversation 
(I  yawn  still  at  the  remembrance),  and  yet,  going  back 
to  it  in  thought  at  this  later  period,  out  of  the  words  of 
that  unmitigated  jackass,  I  drew  my  clue. 

*'  To  bury  him — in  no  pauper's  grave,  or  out  in  field 
or  wood,  where  the  faintest  sign  might  be  sufficient  to 
arrest  attention,  or  where  a  stray  dog  might  scent  the 
newly-slain.  To  bury  him — in  a  grave  dug  for  another, 
in  a  coffin  put  together  with  no  reference  to  him,  in 
consecrated  ground,  and  under  a  stately  monument, 
befitting  his  position  as  his  father's  son  and  my  near 
relation.  To  know  him  there,  cleared  out  of  the  way 
for  ever,  and — under  no  necessity  to  shun  the  spot,  for 
who  could  ever  guess  what  it  concealed  ? — to  revel  in 
this  knowledge  every  time  I  passed  his  resting-place. 
What  a  continuous  source  of  nourishment  for  my  long- 
famished  heart !  What  an  original — what  a  grand 
idea  !  Do  you  begin  to  see  light,  Mr.  Crisparkle  ? 
Do  you  comprehend  why  I  called  my  story,  *  The 
Secret  of  the  Grave'?" 


202          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

The  Minor  Canon  made  no  answer — how  could  he  ? 
But  he  leaned  forward  breathlessly  to  hear  the  rest. 

"  I  laughed  out  loud  as  it  occurred  to  me — for  the 
first  time  for  months  ;  for  years,  I  think — laughed  out 
loud  and  free.  My  nephew  was  with  me  at  the  time, 
and  I  remember  he  turned  round  to  look  at  me  with 
eyes  full  of  wonder. 

"  '  Jack,  dear  old  boy,  how  merry  you  are  to  night/  " 
he  said. 

"  At  that  I  laughed  again,  more  loudly  than  ever, 
and  he  joined  in  heartily.  Like  all  empty-headed 
people  of  his  age,  he  could  giggle  at  anything  and 
nothing.  What  a  mercy  that  the  thoughts  of  the 
heart  are  not  readable  upon  the  face  !  If  he  could 
have  divined  the  cause  of  my  mirth  ! 

"On  that  same  opportunity,  I  had  made  another 
acquaintance  :  and  going  home,  weary  to  death,  on 
the  road  between  Mr.  Sapsea's  residence  and  my 
lodgings  in  the  Gate  House,  I  stumbled  again  upon  this 
man.  It  was  the  stonemason  Durdles,  in  whom  I  felt 
an  uncomfortable  interest — uncomfortable,  because  I 
had  heard  that  he  possessed  a  strange  and  almost  super 
natural  gift  of  discovering,  with  pretty  certain  accuracy, 
where  the  dead  were  buried.  This  gift  of  his  might  be 
very  awkward  to  me,  and  I  felt  it  necessary  to  sound 
him. 

"  He  was  just  that  degree  drunk  that  the  task  I 
had  set  myself  was  lightened.  I  took  him  in  tow, 
therefore,  first  getting  rid  of  a  remarkably  vicious 
small  boy,  his  companion  ;  and  so  shallow  was  he  and 
his  wisdom,  that  I  soon  got  to  the  bottom  of  him. 

"  I  found  that  his  method  of  knowing  where  a  dead 
body  lay  was  regulated  by  a  certain  calculation  ;  that 
his  ear,  from  long  practice,  had  attained  a  really  re 
markable  fineness  in  assisting  him  ;  and  that  his  dis 
coveries  were  by  no  means  only  the  result  of  some 
fortunate  guess,  or  purest  chance,  as  I  had  been  inclined 
to  consider  them.  Having  satisfied  myself  as  to  this, 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      203 

and  still  further  gained  that  knowledge  that  he  would 
always  be  at  my  disposal  if  previously  given  a  stiff  glass 
of  grog,  I  left  him.  Only  as  a  possible  danger  regarding 
the  discovery  of  the  body,  was  Durdles  capable  of 
interesting  me  at  that  period. 

"  But  now,  with  this  new  plan  in  my  head,  he  became 
a  matter  of  deep  and  absorbing  interest.  The  more  I 
thought  about  it,  the  better  it  pleased  me,  and  I  grew 
every  minute  more  sanguine  as  to  its  success.  Care 
fully  carried  out ;  every  detail  considered  beforehand  ; 
every  possible  emergency  provided  for  ;  every  danger 
avoided  ;  it  must  succeed.  And  then,  freed  of  my 
deadliest  enemy  and  hated  rival,  I  would  begin  a  new 
life  with  Rosa.  For  that  I  should  win  her  in  the  end,  I 
never  doubted.  This  great  passion  was  not  given  me 
for  nothing.  I  should  win  her,  for  I  would. 

"  The  first  thing  was  to  get  the  co-operation  of 
Durdles — not  his  spiritual  co-operation,  of  course,  but 
his  bodily.  The  next,  was  to  fix  the  hour  and  the  day. 
You  yourself,  Mr.  Crisparkle,  were  the  one  to  bring  that 
to  a  point.  I  daresay  you  remember  calling  upon  me 
one  evening  to  beg  me  to  exert  my  influence  with  Edwin, 
and  induce  him  to  hold  out  a  hand  of  reconciliation  to 
your  young  Indian,  do  you  not  ?  " 

As  the  prisoner  looked  at  him  for  an  answer,  the 
Minor  Canon  made  a  gesture  of  assent.  If  anything 
could  have  made  this  horrible  confession  more  horrible, 
it  would  have  been  the  composure,  swelling  sometimes 
into  triumphant  exultation,  with  which  it  was  narrated. 

An  occasional  burst  of  anger  flashed  out  once  or 
twice,  and  threatened  to  disturb  its  even  current,  but 
only  for  a  moment.  Looking  back  upon  his  past* 
life  from  the  verge  of  the  grave,  John  Jasper  appeared 
to  see  it  with  a  startling  clearness,  just  as  a  drowning 
man  is  said  to  do. 

No  one  could  doubt,  hearing  him,  that  this  love  and 
this  hate  had  been  the  ruling  motives  of  his  life,  and 
that  without  them  he  must  die.  No  one  could  doubt, 


204         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

hearing  him,  the  accuracy  of  the  facts  and  feelings  he 
narrated,  nor  that  this  story  was  not  only  a  part  of, 
but  his  whole  life. 

"  You  did  not  notice  perhaps,"  he  continued,  **  that 
your  proposal  quite  confounded  me.  It  was  no  part 
of  my  plan  to  quench  the  animosity  between  these 
two,  or  to  allow  them  to  be  reconciled.  And  yet  to 
refuse  would  have  aroused  wonder  and,  very  probably, 
suspicion.  I  rapidly  reviewed  all  the  details  of  my  plan, 
and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  I  should  incur  the 
smaller  danger  by  complying  with  your  request.  I 
did  so,  therefore,  with  an  appearance  of  great  cordiality. 
Then  it  was  that  the  sands  in  my  nephew's  life-glass 
ran  low  indeed,  and  that  the  few  remaining  hours  he 
had  to  live  were  easy  to  be  counted. 

"  I  immediately  put  myself  into  communication  with 
Durdles,  and  obtained  as  much  of  his  goodwill  as  he 
had  to  spare  (little  enough,  for  his  stock-in-hand  was  as 
small  as  my  own),  by  frequently  and  liberally  finding 
him  drink. 

"  I  then  proposed  to  accompany  him  in  his  nightly 
rounds,  and  view  the  inside  of  the  old  Cathedral,  so 
wearily  familiar  to  me  by  day,  in  the  new  light  of 
night.  A  bottle  in  perspective,  and  Durdles  would  have 
been  willing  to  be  accompanied  by  the  devil  himself. 
Surprise  was  totally  foreign  to  the  sot's  nature,  and  I 
took  care  to  guard  against  it  in  the  minds  of  others, 
by  carelessly  referring  to  this  proposed  expedition  in 
their  presence.  So  the  night  came,  and  the  bottle — 
and  Durdles  was  ready. 

"  The  particulars  of  our  ramble  through  the  old 
building,  up  in  the  tower  and  down  in  the  vaults,  would 
prove  as  uninteresting  to  you  as  they  were  to  me,  and 
are  foreign  to  the  purpose  here.  The  contents  of  the 
bottle,  judiciously  drugged,  Durdles  had  inside 
him,  and  we  had  hardly  regained  the  crypt,  before 
emerging,  when  I  saw  that  my  object  was  attained. 
Durdles  sank  down  unconscious. 


"THE    SECRET   OF   THE    GRAVE"      205 

"  I  had  the  keys,  which  he  carried,  in  my  possession 
in  a  moment — the  key  which  would  open  the  door  of 
the  crypt,  and  another  key — that  belonging  to  the 
monument  of  the  late  Mrs.  Sapsea." 

The  Minor  Canon  uttered  a  sharp  exclamation  of 
amaze  ;  raising  his  hand,  and  regarding  the  prisoner 
with  a  wild  look  of  terror. 

"  Ah,  you  begin  to  understand,"  said  John  Jasper, 
smiling  (what  a  smile!).  "That  last  was  the  key 
which  I  had  been  struggling  to  obtain,  and  which  I 
knew  he  had  not  yet  delivered  up  to  Mr.  Sapsea,  but 
frequently  carried  about  with  him.  Without  that  key, 
my  whole  plan  would  have  been  frustrated,  and  I  should 
have  had  to  begin  over  again.  Fortunately,  this  was 
not  necessary.  I  had  had  it  in  my  hand  once  before, 
and  I  knew  it  for  certain  the  moment  that  I  touched  it. 

"  Durdles  slept  where  he  had  fallen,  heavily.  He 
was  safe  to  sleep  for  a  good  hour  or  two,  and  in  the 
meantime  I  had  work  to  do,  and  not  an  instant's  time 
to  lose  in  doing  it. 

"  I  crept  out  of  the  crypt  and  looked  carefully  around 
me.  The  moon  shone  bright  and  clear,  and  I  could  see 
distinctly  all  over  the  Close  and  the  immediate  neigh 
bourhood.  No  human  being  was  to  be  seen  or  heard. 
I  made  quite  certain  of  that  before  I  emerged  into  the 
moonlight.  The  time  was  about  midnight. 

"  I  hurried,  quick  as  thought,  towards  the  church 
yard.  There,  cunningly  concealed  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  Mrs.  Sapsea's  monument,  lay  certain 
things  which  I  had  placed  there  beforehand — a  sack, 
a  lantern,  various  tools.  Equipped  with  these,  I  turned 
towards  the  monument,  and  drawing  out  the  rusty  key 
placed  it  in  the  lock. 

*'  It  was  so  little  used  that  all  my  strength  was  not 
sufficient  to  turn  it,  but  even  for  this  emergency  I  was 
provided.  I  had  brought  a  little  bottle  of  oil  with  me, 
and  after  carefully  lubricating  the  key  and  the  lock, 
I  could  open  the  door  and  enter. 


206          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  For  a  few  moments  I  paused  upon  the  threshold  of 
this  house  appointed  for  the  dead,  and  let  in  a  little 
fresh  air  before  descending.  Then  I  summoned  up  all 
my  resolution,  lit  my  lantern,  opened  a  trap-door  at  my 
feet,  and  going  down  a  few  steps,  found  myself  in  the 
vault. 

"  To  deny  that  my  heart  beat  faster  than  usual, 
or  that  my  pulse  throbbed  feverishly,  would  be  to  lie, 
Mr.  Crisparkle,  and  my  story  is,  from  first  to  last,  true, 
every  word  of  it.  I  was  but  a  man  after  all,  and 
although  my  nerves  were  steeled  to  do  the  work  I  had 
appointed  myself,  I  felt  to  the  full  how  horrible  it  was  ; 
and  I  sickened  at  first  in  the  chilly  and  loathsome  air, 
while  the  cold  sweat  of  an  unutterable  loathing  and 
terror  rose  to  my  brow.  But  I  never  thought  of  going 
back  and  abandoning  my  project ;  no,  not  once. 

"  I  took  a  deep  draught  of  a  cordial  which  I  had 
brought  with  me,  and  it  so  far  revived  me  that  I  was 
able  to  look  about,  and  carefully  review  the  place  before 
commencing  my  work.  The  vault  was  about  eight 
feet  square,  well  built  and  tolerably  dry.  Mr.  Sapsea 
had  spared  no  expense,  as  I  knew.  Then  my  eye  fell 
upon  a  solitary  coffin — the  only  coffin  in  the  vault — 
wherein  lay  the  remains  of  his  wife. 

"  It  was  a  very  handsome  coffin,  elegantly  decorated 
and  of  massive  oak.  On  the  lid  was  a  silver  plate,  on 
which  I  read  by  the  light  of  my  lantern,  '  Ethelinda 
Sapsea,  aged  forty- three.'  It  stood  upon  a  sort  of 
trestle  of  stone. 

"  Towards  this  coffin  my  principal  attention  was 
directed,  because  it  was  what  I  wanted — wanted  for  a 
new  occupant,  for  whose  accommodation,  I  must 
dislodge  the  old  one.  I  immediately  began  therefore, 
without  waste  of  time,  and  without  further  thought 
or  reflection,  which  I  dreaded,  to  loosen  the  screws, 
which  held  down  the  lid. 

"  I  was  unskilful  and  awkward  at  this  unaccustomed 
work,  and  it  progressed  slowly.  I  was  obliged,  too, 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      207 

to  have  frequent  recourse  to  my  cordial,  for  I  more 
than  once  turned  sick  and  faint.  But  at  last  all  the 
screws  were  drawn  out,  and  I  could  remove  the  lid. 

"  I  did  so  without  one  moment's  pause  for  thought. 
I  dared  not  think,  you  see.  With  trembling  haste  I 
tore  off  the  lid  and  looked  down  upon  the  corpse.  I 
had  prepared  myself  for  the  rising  of  a  foul  and  loath 
some  odour,  but  to  my  surprise,  the  air,  already  impure 
and  mouldy,  did  not  grow  much  worse.  I  believe  the 
corpse  must  have  been  embalmed  in  some  way  against 
decay.  I  had  prepared  myself  for  that,  I  say,  and  had 
bound  a  loose  handkerchief  before  my  mouth  and  nose, 
but  I  was  not  prepared  for  what  I  saw,  or  fancied. 

"  I  saw  the  dead  eyes,  sunken  in  the  dead  face,  open 
and  look  at  me.  I  saw  the  dead  mouth  utter  words. 
There  was  no  sound  in  the  vault  except  the  ticking  of 
the  watch  in  my  pocket,  and  the  wild  beating  of  my 
heart,  which  bounded  fiercely  at  first,  and  then  stood 
still  to  listen. 

"  Without  sound,  and  yet  as  plainly  audible  as  if  they 
had  been  words  of  thunder — not  heard,  but  felt — the 
long-dead  and  long-buried  Mrs.  Sapsea  made  me  under 
stand  these  words  :  *  Thou  hast  planned  well,  mortal, 
to  hide  thy  secret  from  all  living  eyes,  but  hadst  for 
gotten  these  dead  ones  of  mine  which,  though  dead, 
can  see  thee.  Know,  that  when  the  witnesses  rise 
up  against  thee,  I  shall  be  among  them.'  Then  the 
eyes  closed  again,  the  mouth  stood  still,  and  only 
a  dead  face,  shrivelled  and  shrunken,  dried  up 
and  withered,  lay  motionless  before  me.  And  my 
paralysed  heart  began  to  beat  again. 

"  With  the  exertion  of  all  my  strength,  bodily  and 
mental,  I  gathered  up  the  dead  body,  and  thrust  it  into 
the  sack,  brought  for  that  purpose,  laid  the  lid  care 
fully  upon  the  coffin,  put  my  tools  into  my  pocket,  and, 
with  my  lantern  in  my  hand,  and  the  sack  upon  my 
back,  staggered  up  the  steps  again,  and  once  more 
into  the  moonlight.  The  churchyard  and  the  Close 


208          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

were  deserted;  it  was  hardly  likely  that  any  one 
would  choose  that  time  of  night  to  wander  there,  of  all 
places  in  the  world.  Then  I  hastened  with  my  burden 
to  the  lime-pit  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  cast  it  in. 
And  then  I  hid  my  lantern  and  my  tools  again,  took 
off  in  wax  an  impress  of  the  key  to  Mrs.  Sapsea's 
monument,  and  hastened  back  to  Durdles.  I  knew 
that  the  quick-lime  in  the  pit  would  be  true  to  its  name 
and  do  its  work  of  destruction  speedily  and  well.  And 
if  at  any  time  any  remnant  of  Mrs.  Sapsea's  bones  should 
be  discovered,  they  would  be  female  ones  and  could  not 
be  supposed  to  have  any  connection  with  the  murder 
of  Edwin  Drood  ;  while  the  presence  of  a  dead  body  in 
Mrs.  Sapsea's  coffin  would  be  perfectly  natural,  and 
only  its  absence  could  excite  surprise.  Not  even 
Durdles  with  all  his  knockings  and  his  rappings  could 
discover  that  it  was  the  wrong  one.  Therefore  my 
nephew,  once  laid  in  that  abode,  would  remain  there 
undisturbed  until  he,  and  I  also,  had  long  been  dust 
and  ashes.  And  the  discovery  of  his  dead  body, 
unless  I  chose  to  reveal  it,  was  an  impossibility.  The 
worst  part  of  my  work  was  accomplished,  and  well 
accomplished. 

"  It  was  high  time  that  I  arrived  in  the  crypt. 
Durdles  was  beginning  to  move,  and  to  utter  unmean 
ing  words.  I  laid  the  keys  by  his  side,  as  if  he  had 
dropped  them  there,  and  began  to  pace  up  and  down 
to  warm  myself,  for  my  teeth  were  chattering.  It 
was  close  upon  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  had  been 
absent  nearly  two  hours. 

"  Durdles  came  back  to  consciousness  peevish  and 
discontented.  I  got  rid  of  him  as  speedily  as  possible, 
and  regaining  possession  of  my  lantern  and  my  tools, 
which  I  should  want  once  more,  went  home  to  rest  after 
my  labours.  I  had  been  greatly  alarmed  at  first  on 
coming  out  of  the  Cathedral  to  find  that  same  hideous 
urchin  in  waiting  for  Durdles,  but  I  discovered  that 
he  had  only  just  arrived,  and  could  not  possibly 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      209 

have  seen  me,  and  so  went  back  to  the  Gate  House 
reassured. 

"  I  could  laugh  now — so  thankful  was  I  to  have  the 
night  behind  me — at  the  remembrance  of  that  foolish 
and  unmeaning  vision  in  the  vault.  If  I  were  safe  from 
living  eyes,  I  had  no  occasion  to  fear  dead  ones.  But  I 
laughed  noiselessly,  for  I  was  standing  by  the  bedside 
of  my  sleeping  nephew,  and  looking  down  upon  him  as 
he  slept.  That  night,  or  the  remainder  of  that  night, 
I,  too,  enjoyed  sound  and  refreshing  sleep,  and  when  1 
woke  I  felt  almost  like  a  new-born  man  for  very 
lightness. 

"  It  was  close  upon  Christmas  Eve,  and  upon  the 
evening  of  that  day  my  nephew  was  to  die.  I  had 
made  sure  long  before,  that  there  was  no  chance,  not 
the  remotest,  of  the  betrothal  being  dissolved,  and  I 
saw  them  myself  renew  their  vows  with  a  tender  kiss, 
more  tenderly,  so  it  seemed  to  me,  than  they  had  ever 
kissed.  My  comfort  was,  that  it  was  for  the  last  time. 

"  My  nephew  and  young  Mr.  Landless,  as  you  know, 
met  to  dine  at  my  house  on  Christmas  Eve.  They  met 
cordially,  and  each  did  his  utmost  to  preserve  that 
cordiality  until  the  end.  Nothing  whatever  occurred  to 
disturb  the  harmony.  I  played  and  sang  to  them,  at 
their  request,  until  at  last  we  all  sat  silent,  and  listened 
to  the  fierce  play  of  the  wind  out  of  doors.  The  play 
had  risen  into  fury  when  Mr.  Neville  rose  to  go.  There 
was  a  wild  cry  in  the  air  as  the  angry  wind  lashed  it, 
and  the  trees  swayed  and  trembled. 

"  I  proposed  that  the  two  young  people  should  go 
down  to  the  river  together,  and  contemplate  the 
grandeur  of  the  storm.  They  did  so  ;  and  during  their 
absence  I  made  my  preparations.  In  a  very  short  time, 
my  nephew  returned  alone.  I  was  waiting  for  him  in 
the  gateway. 

"  '  Is  that  you,  Ned  ?  '  I  said,  as  he  entered  it. 

"  '  Yes,  Jack.     Why  ?     What  are  you  doing  here  in 
this  awful  draught  ?  ' 
p 


2io         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  '  Waiting  for  you,  dear  boy.' 

"  c  Mercy  on  us,  Jack  !  You  didn't  suppose  that  the 
wind  would  carry  me  away  bodily,  did  you  ?  Not 
but  what  it  tried  to  do  so.' 

"  *  I  want  to  show  you  something,  Ned.' 

"  '  Then  let's  go  upstairs  and  see  it,  Jack,  for  I'm 
nearly  frozen.' 

"  *  It  is  in  the  churchyard.' 

"  '  Then  if  you  please,  Jack,  I  will  see  it  to-morrow, 
or  if  it  can't  be  seen  then,  will  be  satisfied  to  go  without 
seeing  it.  No  sight,  however  wonderful,  could  please 
me  better  now  than  a  roaring  fire.' 

"  '  To  please  me,  Ned ;  I  promise  you  that  it  will 
surprise  you.' 

"  '  What  a  tiresome  old  Jack  you  are  !  Well,  I 
suppose  I  must  go  with  you.  But  for  all  you  pretend 
to  make  so  much  of  me,  I  know  who's  master.  You 
always  end,  you  old  tyrant !  in  making  me  do  what 
you  wish.' 

"  He  spoke  these  last  words  half  pettishly,  half 
playfully,  looking,  nevertheless,  wistfully  into  my  face 
to  see  if  he  had  offended  me.  His  face  was  turned 
towards  the  lantern  on  one  side  of  the  archway,  so  that 
I  could  see  it  plainly.  Well  for  him,  or  ill  for  him,  that 
he  could  not  see  mine. 

"  For  my  blood  was  boiling  hot  and  madly  within 
me,  suffusing  my  face  with  burning  colour,  and  my 
restless  hands  were  itching  to  lay  him  low.  This  delay, 
occasioned  by  his  unexpected  opposition,  irritated  me 
to  death. 

"  '  Come,'  I  said,  hoarsely. 

"  '  Just  one  moment,  Jack.  I  really  must  run 
upstairs  and  take  a  drop  of  that  mixture  you  brewed  for 
us  this  evening.  The  wind,  roaring  so  fiercely,  has  got 
down  into  my  stomach  I  do  believe,  and  is  playing  the 
very  deuce  there.  Go  on  before  ;  I  shall  overtake 
you  in  a  minute.' 

"  To  have  lost  sight  of  him,  for  ever  so  short  a  time, 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      211 

would  have  been  more  than  I  could  endure.  Grasping 
him  by  the  shoulder  with  one  hand,  I  took  a  small  flask 
of  brandy  out  of  my  pocket  with  the  other  (I  always 
carried  it  with  me  on  account  of  a  sort  of  fainting  attack, 
to  which  I  was  subject)  and  gave  it  to  him. 

'*  '  We  must  make  haste/  I  said,  '  or  we  shall  be  too 
late.  Take  a  drop  of  this.  We  shall  have  seen  what 
I  want  to  show  you  in  another  minute,  and  if  you  still 
feel  the  need  of  it,  I  will  brew  you  any  amount  of  the 
mixture  on  our  return.' 

"  He  put  the  flask  to  his  lips;  then  transferred  it  to 
his  own  pocket. 

"  *  I  shall  want  another  sip  in  the  churchyard/  he 
said,  '  since  you  will  take  me  there/ 

"  That  flask  lies  buried  with  him  in  Mrs.  Sapsea's 
cofnn,  for  I  forgot  it  afterwards. 

"  I  almost  dragged  him  forward.  As  we  passed  out 
from  under  the  gateway,  the  wind  rushed  to  meet  us, 
frantically  strove  to  separate  us,  and  shrieked — so  I 
fancied — in  wild  despair  at  failing.  We  heard  it  crash 
the  glass  of  the  lantern  behind  us,  by  the  light  of  which 
I  had  seen  his  face  for  the  last  time,  and  it  went  out — 
as  the  light  of  his  life  would  soon  go  out,  for  ever. 

"  My  nephew  seemed  bewildered  by  the  crash  and 
roar,  and  clung  to  me  as  a  terrified  child  might  have 
done.  I  fancy  he  spoke,  or  tried  to  speak,  but  the 
angry  wind  seized  the  words  he  uttered,  or  would  have 
uttered,  and  scattered  them  far  and  wide. 

"  When  we  got  under  the  shadow  of  the  Cathedral, 
on  that  side  where  the  churchyard  lay,  we  were  sheltered 
from  the  extreme  fury  of  the  wind,  and  could  speak  and 
breath  again.  My  time  was  come. 

"  '  Go  on  a  step,  Ned,  and  I  will  show  it  you/ 

"  He  answered, 

"  '  All  right,  Jack,  but  if  it  isn't  well  worth  the 
trouble  we  have  had,  see  if  I  don't  pay  you  out,  old 
chap/ 

"  Those  were  the  last  words  I  heard  him  speak. 


A  GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

The  very  last  words  he  ever  would  speak  in  his  world. 
The  next  moment  I  had  flung  a  noose  around  his  neck, 
with  a  skilful  and  steady  hand,  and  drawn  it  close  and 
tight.  He  neither  struggled  nor  cried  out,  but  fell  dull 
and  heavy  like  a  stone. 

"  I  never  could  have  thought  any  one  could  have 
been  killed  so  easily.  What  a  miserable  thing  is  the 
breath  of  life  in  our  nostrils  !  Another  breath  can 
quench  it.  I  stooped  down,  and  took  him  in  my  arms. 
He  was  warm,  of  course,  but  motionless  and  dead.  I 
must  have  broken  something  in  his  neck,  I  suppose, 
by  the  suddenness  and  sharpness  of  the  pull.  But  he 
was  dead  :  there  was  no  doubt  about  that,  and  I  must 
make  haste  to  bury  him.  Any  moment  might  bring 
discovery.  I  could  only  breathe  freely  when  I  knew 
him  in  the  coffin  I  had  prepared  for  him. 

"  We  were  close  to  Mrs.  Sapsea's  monument.  This 
time  I  had  no  difficulty  in  opening  it,  and  found  all  as 
I  had  left  it. 

"  I  laid  him  in  the  coffin  ;  first,  for  a  reason  I  had, 
taking  off  his  watch  and  his  shirt  pin.  He  fitted  it  to 
perfection.  I  was  just  about  to  fasten  down  the  lid, 
when,  for  the  second  time,  I  had  a  renewal  of  that 
strange  vision  which  had  appeared  to  me  before  in  the 
vault.  I  saw  in  the  coffin,  not  my  nephew,  whom  I 
had  just  laid  there,  but  Mrs.  Sapsea  again.  I  saw  the 
dead  eyes  open  in  the  shrunken  and  shrivelled  face,  I 
saw  the  dead  mouth  move,  as  if  uttering  words.  And 
my  heart  once  more  gave  one  fierce  bound,  then  stood 
still  to  listen. 

"  It  stood  still  so  long,  that  I  became  unconscious. 
When  I  came  to  myself,  I  was  icy  cold,  and  my  hands 
were  so  numbed  that  I  had  hardly  strength  to  screw 
down  the  coffin  lid,  and  make  it  firm  and  sure.  But 
at  last  my  task  was  ended,  and  I  was  a  free  man. 
I  had  carefully  avoided  looking  again  into  the  coffin 
for  fear  of  another  repetition  of  the  vision,  which  I 
knew  would  have  unmanned  me. 


"THE   SECRET   OF   THE   GRAVE"      213 

"  I  left  the  vault,  exactly  to  all  outward  appearance, 
as  I  had  first  found  it.  It  would  probably  only  be 
re-entered  when,  in  the  course  of  nature,  Mr.  Sapsea 
should  be  gathered  to  his  fathers.  How  astonished 
the  pompous  idiot  would  have  been  could  he  have 
imagined  who  would  be  his  neighbour ! 

"  The  wind  seemed  as  desirous  to  keep  me  in  the 
vault  as  I  had  been  to  bring  my  nephew  there.  I  had 
quite  a  struggle  to  get  out,  but  I  had  conquered  and 
subdued  the  wind,  as  man  always  can  the  elements, 
locked  the  door  for  the  last  time,  and  went  back  to  the 
Gate  House  alone. 

"  I  warmed  myself  inside  and  out,  for  I  was  chilled 
to  the  bone,  and  then,  though  the  storm  still  raged 
madly,  I  went  out  again,  taking  the  key  (a  new  one, 
made  from  the  impress  in  wax)  and  Edwin's  watch 
and  pin  with  me.  I  might  have  left  them  also  in  the 
coffin,  which  would  have  been  the  last  place  where 
they  would  have  been  sought,  but  that  I  wanted  them 
to  play  another  part.  I  wished  the  world  to  make 
sure  that  Edwin  had  been  murdered,  and  also  I  wished 
to  throw  suspicion  upon  your  young  Indian.  There 
would  be  no  chance  of  my  nephew's  having  absconded, 
if  his  watch  and  pin  should  be  found,  as  I  meant  them 
to  be  ;  and  your  young  man,  who  had  ventured  to  cast 
an  eye  of  love  upon  my  choice,  must  be  rendered 
powerless  ever  to  win  her.  I  cast,  therefore,  the  key 
into  a  deep  part  of  the  river,  and  the  watch  and  pin 
into  a  spot  where  I  hoped  they  might  be  found.  You 
know  the  rest,  Mr.  Crisparkle,  and  if  you  wonder,  as 
perhaps  you  do,  how  it  is  that  I  should  remember 
even  the  smallest  details,  even  to  the  conversation 
with  my  nephew,  so  accurately,  do  as  I  have  done, 
and  you  will  find  that  the  difficulty — the  only  difficulty 
— is  to  forget." 

As  he  ended  thus  abruptly,  the  prisoner  turned  his 
back  upon  the  Minor  Canon,  as  if  he  had  done  with 
him  and  the  world  from  this  time  forward.  All  life 


214         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

and  animation  died  out  of  his  face,  his  eye  lost  its  fire, 
and  as  he  crouched  down  again  upon  the  bed  on  which 
he  was  sitting,  he  had  more  the  look  of  a  stunned 
animal  than  of  a  human  being,  so  completely  and 
heavily  he  sank  into  lethargy. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

A    DOUBLE    RESURRECTION 

MR.  CRISPARKLE  had  been  listening  to  the  story  of  the 
prisoner,  ever  since  the  mention  of  Mrs.  Sapsea's 
monument,  with  a  feeling  of  intense  and  bewildering 
amaze.  He  had  not  interrupted  its  progress  once 
since  that  period,  but  sat  with  bowed  head,  hearing 
every  word  which  John  Jasper  uttered,  and  not  only 
mechanically  hearing,  but  understanding  it  too,  yet 
with  an  impression,  growing  as  the  story  proceeded, 
that  it  was  too  wild  and  improbable  to  be  true,  but 
must  be  a  vision  of  the  narrator.  And  even  in  the 
midst  of  this,  an  inward  voice  seemed  to  be  saying  to 
him,  constantly — so  constantly,  that  the  repetition 
grew  almost  unbearable : 

"  Edwin  Drood's  dead  body  laid  in  Mrs.  Sapsea's 
coffin.  Mrs.  Sapsea's  coffin  opened  and  found  empty. 
Who  can  reconcile  these  two  facts,  if  facts  they  are  ?  " 
And  again  :  "  Mrs.  Sapsea's  coffin  opened  and  found 
empty.  Edwin  Drood's  dead  body  laid  in  Mrs.  Sap- 
sea's  coffin.  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  " 
And  again,  ditto,  ditto,  ad  infinitum,  ending  at  last 
with :  "I  dare  not  think  any  more  about  this  at 
present,  or  I  shall  grow  distracted." 

Yet,  notwithstanding  this  firm  resolve,  he  was  still 
thinking  about  it  when  the  story  was  concluded  (that 
story  which  he  found  so  wildly  improbable,  and  yet 
which  he  could  have  repeated  again,  word  for  word, 
as  if  he  had  lived,  instead  of  only  heard  it),  and  was 
still  thinking  about  it  when  the  gaoler,  pre-announced 
by  the  rattling  of  his  tools,  turned  the  key  of  this 

21$ 


216          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

particular  cell  in  the  rusty  lock,  and  came  to 
summon  him. 

"  You've  been  a  long  while  over  your  time,  sir," 
said  the  gaoler,  "  but  as  I  heerd  him  (with  a  rattle 
of  his  keys  towards  the  bed)  a  talking  constant,  and 
as  it  was  you,  sir,  I  took  the  liberty  of  closing  a  hi, 
and  let  the  time  be  hanged." 

This  last  word  sounded  so  unpleasantly  suggestive 
in  the  prison,  that  even  the  gaoler  felt  it.  Following, 
therefore,  the  metaphorical  closing  of  the  eye  with  the 
literal  one,  he  managed  with  the  other  organ  of  vision, 
and  with  remarkable  ingenuity,  to  glance  respectfully 
at  the  Minor  Canon,  and  significantly  at  the  prisoner. 

"  You'll  be  glad  enough  to  get  out  into  the  fresh 
hair,"  he  continued,  energetically  re-opening  the  closed 
eye  and  looking  about  him  as  if  he  feared  he  had  gone 
too  far  with  his  experiment,  and  that  his  eyes  might 
have  lost  the  power  of  ever  working  together  in  unison, 
"  the  hatmosphere  of  the  cells  brings  down  the  prisoners 
remarkable,  and  it  ain't  a  bit  wonderful  that  it  should 
affect  you,  sir.  He's  quiet  now,  as  quiet  as  a  lamb," 
bringing  again  one  eye  to  bear  upon  John  Jasper,  who 
still  sat  upon  the  bedstead,  as  rigid  and  unlike  life, 
as  if  he  were  dead,  "  but  he've  got  the  prison  ager  for 
all  that ;  there's  a  many  on  em  gets  it,  and  he,  in 
partickler,  has  his  hot  and  cold  fits,  reglar.  He  was  so 
obstreperous,  that  we  had  to  put  him  in  irons,  though 
it  ain't  customary,  unless  they're  wiolent,  afore  the 
trial." 

The  Minor  Canon  looked  uneasily  at  the  prisoner, 
and  slightly  shook  his  head.  Then,  staggering,  rather 
than  rising,  to  his  feet,  he  indicated  that  he  was  ready. 

"  Bless  you,  sir,"  said  the  gaoler,  with  a  chuckle 
(he  had  caught  the  deprecatory  glance  of  the  clergyman, 
and  fully  understood  its  import),  "  he  ain't  a  listening 
to  me.  He's  too  far  gone  for  that ;  he's  as  good  as  dead 
now,  and  in  a  few  short  weeks  he'll  be  as  bad  as  it, 
Now,  sir,  if  you'll  have  the  goodness," 


A   DOUBLE    RESURRECTION  217 

He  followed  the  gaoler^out  through  the  chilly  stone 
passages,  into  the  fresh  air,  leaving  John  Jasper 
locked  up  in  the  solitude  of  his  cell,  but  closely  pursued 
by  the  importunate  riddle  which  he  had  found  there, 
and  which  would  not  be  left  behind  ;  my  first,  Edwin 
Brood's  dead  body  laid  in  Mrs.  Sapsea's  coffin  ;  my 
second,  Mrs.  Sapsea's  coffin  opened  and  found  empty  ; 
my  whole,  what?  and— "  I  must  put  off  the  solving 
of  this  to  a  moment  when  my  mind  is  clearer  and  less 
agitated,  for  now  it  is  making  me  light-headed." 

At  night,  from  under  his  pillow  it  crept  out  in  the 
darkness,  and  took  up  its  station  by  his  ear,  repeating  : 
"  Mrs.  Sapsea's  coffin  opened  and  found  empty.  Edwin 
Drood's  dead  body  laid  in  Mrs.  Sapsea's  coffin.  Who 
can  make  head  or  tail  of  this  ?  "  and  :  "  I  must  banish 
it  with  a  strong  effort,  or  it  will  haunt  me  all  the  night." 


Mr.  Grewgious,  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  call  on  Mr.  Sapsea.  He  had  heard 
of  the  popular  excitement  concerning  Mrs.  Sapsea's 
ghost,  and  the  consequent  ignominious  treatment 
which  the  unfortunate  widower  had  received  at  the 
hands  of  his  townspeople. 

Mr.  Sapsea,  still  confined  to  bed,  graciously  expressed 
his  desire  that  Mr.  Grewgious  should  visit  him  there  ; 
and  the  Collector  of  Rents,  conscious  what  a  poor 
figure  he  would  inevitably  make  of  himself,  and 
ashamed  to  feel  how  sorry  he  was,  submissively 
followed  the  maid  conducting  him. 

The  sight  of  the  tremendous  bed  and  the  solemn 
figure  reposing  therein,  tended  still  further  to  confuse 
and  overawe  him  ;  and  he  arrived  at  the  bedside 
in  such  bodily  and  mental  perturbation  that  he  was 
incapable  of  uttering  a  word,  and  stood,  an  image  of 
despair  and  dismay,  before  the  Mayor. 

That  fallen  Power,  hollow-eyed  and  shrunken, 
pointed,  with  somewhat  of  his  old  stately  manner, 


218          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

to  a  chair  beside  his  bedstead,  and  harassed  Mr. 
Grewgious  actually  found  himself  seated  there  at 
length,  before  the  look  had  vanished. 

"  This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,"  began  his  Honour. 

Mr.  Grewgious  felt  that  Society  expected  him  to 
reply  that  the  pleasure  was  on  his  side  ;  but  this  would 
have  been  such  an  unmitigated  fib  that  it  never  got 
any  further  than  his  conscientious  throat,  where  it 
stuck  fast. 

"  You  find  me/'  continued  the  Mayor,  no  whit 
disconcerted,  but  rather  gratified,  by  the  silence  and 
awkwardness  of  Mr.  Grewgious,  which  he  looked  upon 
as  an  involuntary  tribute  to  the  Presence  in  which  he 
found  himself,  "  you  find  me  abashed  and  laid  low, 
and  my  enemies  triumphing  over  me." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Mr.  Grewgious,  forgetting  himself 
in  his  sympathy,  "  don't  say  that.  Things  are  sure 
to  clear  up.  I  have  good  reason  for  saying  that  I  am 
sure  they  will." 

"  Let  us  not  deny  the  facts,"  continued  Mr.  Sapsea, 
with  raised  voice  and  increased  solemnity,  "  let  us 
not  be  guilty,  as  men  and  Englishmen,  of  turning  our 
backs  upon  the  Truth.  If  I  had  compared  myself 
in  the  times  past  to  a  stately  tree,  spreading  out  wide 
branches  over  the  community  to  protect  and  shield 
them  from  the  storm,  you  might  probably  have 
admitted  that  the  comparison  was  a  just  one." 

Mr.  Grewgious,  bowing  his  head  low,  smoothed 
it  also. 

"  And  shall  I  shrink  now,"  went  on  the  Mayor, 
quite  in  a  lively  tone  and  struggling  to  sit  up  in  bed, 
"  from  the  acknowledgment  that  that  same  mighty 
tree,  the  ornament  of  the  forest,  has  been  struck  by 
lightning,  while  braving  the  storm  for  others,  and 
blasted  in  its  pride.  No,  sir,  I  scorn  to  do  it,  It  is 
a  ruin  whom  you  favour  with  your  company.  A 
ru — u — in  !  Though,  perhaps,  you  may  wish  to  add, 
—a  majestic  one/' 


A   DOUBLE   RESURRECTION  219 

Mr.  Grewgious,  uttering  some  inarticulate  sounds, 
might  have  been  understood  to  imply  that  he  did  wish 
to  add  it. 

It  was  astonishing  to  note  the  change  which  this 
uncontradicted  self-laudation  was  producing  in  his 
Honour.  He  had  looked  old,  shrivelled  and  shrunken, 
in  the  depths  of  his  tremendous  bed  when  the  Collector 
of  Rents  had  entered,  but  he  seemed  to  fill  out  visibly 
before  his  visitor's  eyes,  like  a  collapsed  air-cushion 
re-inflated. 

"  Like  all  men  who,  from  gifts  of  Nature  or  circum 
stance,  tower  above  the  herd/1  he  continued,  quite 
revivified — *'  might  I  trouble  you  to  raise  the  pillow 
at  my  head  ? — I  have  been  at  the  disadvantage  of  being 
out  of  their  range  of  vision,  and  consequently  misunder 
stood  and  undervalued.  Time,  as  you  justly  observe, 
will  open  their  blinded  eyes,  and  I  shall  have  my  niche 
in  the  Temple  of  Fame,  but  I  may  not  live  to  see  it. 
And  now  to  turn  to  a  subject  which  made  me  specially 
desirous  of  conversing  with  you  this  afternoon — you 
know  that  a  terrible  crime  has  been  committed  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  You  allude  to  the  attempted  suicide 
and  murder  by  the  river  ?  " 

"  I  allude  to  no  such  thing,"  said  the  Mayor,  severely. 
"  Since  that  misguided  young  man  quitted  Cloisterham, 
and  wantonly  abandoned  those  opportunities  for 
instruction  which  he  might  have  profited  by  (I  had 
admitted  him  to  the  favour  of  my  acquaintance,  and 
my  evening  conversation),  I  immediately  foresaw 
that  he  would — to  put  it  familiarly — go  to  the  Bad. 
He  has  gone  to  the  Bad,  as  was  to  be  expected,  and  has 
justified  my  predictions.  But  he  has  wholly  ceased  to 
interest  me  ;  for,  the  moment  he  left  Cloisterham  and 
his  unheard-of  privileges,  I  had  done  with  him." 

"  But  perhaps  you  do  not  know,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious. 
"  that  he  is  also  accused  of  the  murder  of  his  nephew, 
Edwin  Drood,  and  that  there  is  almost  overwhelming 
evidence  against  him," 


220          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

"  I  have  heard  that  also,"  responded  the  Mayor, 
"  and  it  does  not  surprise  me  in  the  least.  A  young 
man,  capable  of  casting  away  such  inestimable  advan- 
ages,  is  capable  of  anything.  For  the  rest,  spare 
me  the  details.  They  do  not  interest  me.  They  are 
distasteful  to  me/'  said  his  Honour. 

"  Then,  of  what  crime  are  you  speaking  ?  " 

"  Of  another,  far  more  terrible.  Of  the  sacrilegious 
violation  of  the  sanctity  of  the  tomb.  Of  the  desecra 
tion  of  the  coffin  of  my  deceased  wife." 

"  What !  you  know  that,  too  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Grewgious, 
in  amaze.  "  And  we  meant  to  keep  it  close  for  the 
present,  it  seems  so  improbable ;  and  yet  the  old  woman 
swears  it." 

The  Mayor  regarded  the  speaker  with  severe  dis 
pleasure. 

"  If,"  he  began  slowly,  "  you  are  speaking  in  those 
highly  offensive  terms  of  a  most  excellent  and  appre 
ciative  lady  residing  opposite,  I  beg  to  inform  you  that 
I  cherish  a  warm  regard  for  her,  and  a  high  opinion  of 
her  capacity  for  looking  up,  and  cannot  permit  it,  in  my 
presence." 

"  Oh  dear !  "  murmured  Mr.  Grewgious,  who,  quite 
innocent  of  any  intention  of  offending,  was  all  the  more 
confounded.  "  I  knew  I  should  get  into  a  mess.  I  ain't 
fit  for  society.  It's  like  trying  to  walk  on  eggs  and 
not  breaking  'em — with  my  weight  too.  Bless  me ! 
(punishing  his  head  without  mercy  for  its  incapacity) 
how  couldn't  I  see  that  I  was  better  out  of  it  ?  " 

"  That  ornament  to  her  sex,"  continued  the  Mayor 
with  righteous  warmth,  "  truer  to  me  in  misfortune 
than  in  prosperity,  prepares  with  her  own  scholastic 
hands,  little  accustomed  to  such  uncongenial  work, 
basins  of  delicious  gruel,  cups  of  the  strongest  beef 
tea,  jellies  and  broths  of  surpassing  quality,  and 
requests  my  acceptance  of  these  refreshments  with  a 
deference  more  refreshing  still.  Therefore,  I  repeat, 
that  a  lady  capable  of  such  acts  of  spontaneous  and 


A   DOUBLE   RESURRECTION  221 

reverential  homage,  is  not  a  lady  to  be  spoken  of  as 
*  an  old  woman/  and  shall  not  be,  in  my  presence." 

The  Mayor  was  now  actually  sitting  up  in  bed,  and, 
puffed  out  and  pompous,  was  becoming  alarmingly  his 
old  self  again. 

1  "  Good  Heavens !  "  ejaculated  the  unfortunate  and 
horror-struck  Collector  of  Rents,  upon  whom  a  light 
began  to  break,  "  you  don't  fancy  I  meant  Miss  Twinkle- 
ton — do  you  ?  I  should  never  have  dreamed  of  taking 
such  a  liberty.  The  very  mere  thought,"  said  Mr. 
Grewgious,  wiping  his  face  and  head  with  a  pocket- 
handkerchief  drawn  out  for  that  purpose,  "  makes  me 
break  out  into  a  copious  perspiration.  I  was  referring 
to  an  old  woman  in  London,  who  don't  mind  being  called 
so  ;  if  she  did,  I  shouldn't  do  it,  I  hope." 

"  Would  you  be  so  obliging,"  said  the  Mayor,  accept 
ing  this  apology  with  gracious  condescension,  "  as  to 
hand  me  my  dressing-gown  and  slippers.  There's  a  fire 
in  my  dressing-room,  and  I  feel  almost  strong  enough 
for  an  easy-chair." 

Mr.  Grewgious,  anxious  to  assist,  but  still  confused 
in  his  mind,  handed  the  Mayor  successively,  apparently 
under  the  impression  that  it  was  what  was  requested  of 
him,  a  bootjack,  a  razor,  a  pair  of  trousers  and  a  poker, 
and  finally  was  obliged  to  ring  the  bell  and  obtain 
assistance. 

When  his  Honour  was  comfortably  established  in 
his  easy-chair,  looking  (so  Mr.  Grewgious  thought) 
quite  a  man  and  Mayor  again,  Mr.  Sapsea  resumed  the 
interruped  conversation. 

"  We  were  speaking  of  the  desecration  of  the  tomb 
of  my  late  wife,"  he  said.  "  It  was  opened,  at  my 
suggestion,  in  order  to  silence  the  voice  of  calumny, 
and  then  the  awful  discovery  was  made  that  it  had 
been  opened  before  and  robbed  of  its  contents." 

"  Opened  ?  Already  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Grewgious. 
"  How  vain  is  every  attempt  of  the  murderer  to  hide 
his  fatal  secret !  If  the  living  are  silent,  the  very  stones 


222          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

cry  out,  and  the  dead  bear  witness  to  the  crime.  So 
you  have  had  it  done,  while  we  were  waiting  !  " 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  sir,"  said  the  Mayor, 
with  a  look  which  added,  "  and  when  I  say  I  do  not 
understand  you,  it  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  you  are 
not  to  be  understood." 

But  Mr.  Grewgious  went  on  hurriedly  and  eagerly, 
never  heeding  his  Honour,  and  apparently  forgetting 
all  his  fears  concerning  the  demands  of  society. 

"  Thus,  even  without  our  efforts  at  hunting  him 
down,  and  tracking  out  the  crime  so  cunningly  con 
cealed,  it  would  have  come  to  light.  Wonderful  as  it 
appears  that  this  should  have  been  hidden  from 
me,  yet  I  can  finish  your  narration,  Mr.  Sapsea.  You 
found  the  corpse  of  your  dead  wife  removed,  and 
another  laid  in  its  place." 

The  Mayor,  alarmed  at  this  sudden  outburst  on  the 
part  of  his  abashed  and  silent  visitor,  regarded  him 
as  if  he  feared  he  had  shared  the  fate  of  Durdles,  and 
had  gone  mad. 

"  I  repeat,  sir,  that  I  do  not  understand  you,  and 
I  fear  you  do  not  understand  yourself.  Whether  the 
corpse  was  removed  for  anatomical  purposes,  or  by  an 
enemy,  jealous  of  my  renown,  and  seeking  thus  to  throw 
suspicion  on  my  honour,  I  cannot  say — I  have  my  eye 
on  a  villain  capable  of  both  these  crimes — the  fact  is, 
as  a  very  worthy  witness  has  informed  me,  that  the 
coffin  contained  no  remains  whatever  of  the  late  Mrs. 
Sapsea,  but  was  empty." 

"  Empty  ?  " 

"  Empty." 

Each  of  the  gentlemen  looked  aghast  at  the  other ; 
the  one  aghast  at  the  unexpected  news ;  the  other 
aghast  at  a  vision  conjured  up  by  his  fears. 

"  It  can't  have  been  empty,"  began  Mr  Grewgious, 
after  an  interval  of  alarmed  silence,  during  which  the 
Mayor  had  cautiously  laid  his  hand  upon  the  bell-rope 
by  his  side.  "  We  agreed  to  keep  it  secret,  till  the 


A  DOUBLE   RESURRECTION  223 

time  came,  I  and  my  helper  ;  but  it  cannot  have  been 
empty.  The  old  woman  said  so,  the  old  woman  swore 
he  had  said  so,  in  his  visions/' 

"  You  speak,"  said  the  Mayor,  tightening  his  grasp 
of  the  bell-rope,  "  in  enigmas." 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  enquired  Mr. 
Grewgious,  of  the  air,  of  the  fire,  of  the  window,  and  of 
a  picture  hanging  over  the  mantelpiece,  successively. 
As,  however,  these  insensate  objects  remained  speech 
less,  with  the  exception  of  the  fire,  which  roared  lustily, 
but  incomprehensively,  he  applied  finally  to  Mr. 
Sapsea  (growing  stony)  and  repeated  for  the  fifth  time 
— "  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  He  was  using 
the  very  words  unconsciously,  which  Mr.  Crisparkle 
was  uttering  almost  at  the  same  moment. 

"  The  meaning,"  answered  the  Mayor,  somewhat 
peevishly,  and  doubtful  whether  it  would  be  wiser  to 
ring  or  not,  "  is,  that  I  am  still  an  invalid,  and  can't 
stand  long  visits  as  yet — and  when  I  say,  the  coffin  was 
empty,  I  mean,  of  course,  empty  of  anything  expected 
to  be  found  there.  There  was  a  ring — new  to  me,  and 
hardly  possible  to  have  belonged  to  Mrs.  Sapsea  without 
my  knowledge.  To  have  supposed  that  ring  to  have 
been  the  property  of  Mrs.  Sapsea,  would  have  been  to 
suppose  Mrs.  Sapsea  capable  of  concealing  something 
from  me,  and  an  insult,  not  only  to  Mrs.  Sapsea,  but 
also  to  me,  sir  "  (irritably,  as  if  Mr.  Grewgious  persisted 
in  supposing  it). 

"  May  I  see  the  ring  ?  " 

"  I  feel  very  weak,"  said  the  Mayor,  with  a  sudden 
relapse,  "  but  if  you  will  not  be  too  long  about  it,  you 
can  do  so.  You  will  find  it  in  that  little  drawer — third 
one  from  the  top — of  my  secretary." 

What  made  Mr.  Grewgious  tremble  and  shake  as  if 
a  storm  wind  had  seized  him  ?  Why,  even  when  he. 
had  found  the  right  drawer,  after  repeated  failures,  did 
he  hesitate  to  open  it  ?  Why,  when  he  did  so,  did  he 
show  symptoms  of  such  violent  agitation  ?  Perhaps 


224         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

Mr.  Sapsea,  with  alarmed  eyes  upon  him,  might  have 
been  propounding  these  questions. 

A  little  leather  case,  worn  and  old.  A  ring — so 
small  that  one  fell  instinctively  into  a  muse,  to  think 
how  slender  must  have  been  the  finger  that  could 
wear  it. 

A  ring !  Her  ring !  Bringing  back  with  a  rush 
old  days  long  past,  but  cherished  still  as  a  blessed 
memory  of  my  youth.  Oh,  love,  dead  so  many  weary 
years  ;  leaving  behind  only  the  hope  of  meeting  thee  in 
heaven,  and  daring,  unreproved,  to  love  thee  there ! 
Oh  little  dead  hand,  now  mouldering  in  the  grave,  yet 
once,  when  wearing  this,  so  soft  and  fair !  Oh,  God, 
ever  merciful,  who  gave  me  one  never-to-be-forgotten 
glimpse  into  Thy  Paradise,  and  endless  longing  to  live 
worthy  of  such  rich  reward  !  With  bowed  heart  and 
head,  I  acknowledge  the  wisdom  of  Thy  decree  and 
know  that  though  Thou  tookest  my  treasure,  Thou 
hast  restored  and  wilt  restore  it. 

A  ring  !  Her  ring !  Given  back  to  life  and  light, 
and  sparkling  in  the  dancing  firelight  like  an  emblem 
of  immortality.  Forgive  these  tears  which  will  not  be 
restrained ;  they  are  not  tears  of  rebellion,  O  Lord ! 
but  of  humblest  submission  to  Thy  decree,  and  seek  to 
praise  and  glorify  Thy  name  ! 

"  I  can  identify  this  ring,"  he  said  slowly,  when  the 
first  burst  of  uncontrollable  emotion  had  been  sup 
pressed,  "  but  not  now  ;  I  am  too  affected — too  deeply 
moved  at  the  sight  of  it,  to  be  able  to  collect  my 
thoughts  sufficiently  even  to  wonder  how  the  ring  was 
found  there,  alone.  Let  me  lay  it  for  the  present  back 
again,  where  you  laid  it,  till  I  can."  And  tremblingly 
smoothing  his  smooth  head,  Mr.  Grewgious  took  leave 
of  the  astonished  Mayor,  quitting  the  room  just  as 
a  servant-maid  entered  it,  carrying  a  tray,  on  which 
stood  a  basin  of  smoking  beef  tea,  that  moment  come 
with  Miss  Twinkleton's  humblest  compliments. 

Mr.  Grewgious  never  knew  how  he  got  back  to  his 


A   DOUBLE    RESURRECTION  225 

hotel,  for  his  legs  carried  him  thither  without  any 
conscious  instruction  from  his  mind.  He  was  thinking 
of  years  long  past,  when  he,  an  awkward,  shambling 
lad,  had  first  looked  into  a  sweet  face,  and  felt  in  doing 
so,  what  heaven  really  was  ;  he  was  recalling  the  time 
when  the  hope  of  attaining  such  a  treasure  had  dawned 
upon  him  like  a  wonder  too  great  to  be  possible,  yet 
rapturously  cherished  while  it  lasted  ;  he  was  enduring 
again  the  old  agony,  when  the  vain  hope  died  out  for 
ever  ;  he  was  plodding  again  the  dreary,  dreary  path  of 
life  without  it ;  he  was  thinking  how  the  first  dim  light 
which  shone  upon  this  dreary  life  was  the  wish  so  to  live 
as  to  have  been  worthy  of  her,  if  God  had  willed  it  so  ; 
he  was  thanking  God  that  this  light  had  grown  and 
spread,  not  dazzling  as  the  other,  but  calm  and  peaceful 
as  twilight  before  the  night  comes,  and  the  re-breaking 
of  the  day.  And  he  knew  that  though  the  All-good 
and  All-merciful  had  given  man,  for  his  earthly  portion, 
mourning  as  well  as  gladness,  sorrow  as  well  as  joy, 
yet  that  all  His  gifts  were  good. 

On  arriving  at  the  **  Crozier,"  he  enquired,  coming 
back  from  time  past  to  time  present,  where  Mr.  Neville 
was,  and  learned  from  the  waiter  that  he  had  returned 
about  an  hour  before,  and  being  weary  from  his  walk, 
had  followed  his  sister's  earnest  advice,  and  gone  to 
lie  down. 

"  But  there's  another  young  gent,"  added  the 
waiter,  "  a  waiting  for  you  in  the  coffee-room,  and 
is,  at  this  moment,  a  pacing  up  and  down,  and  a 
walking  to  and  fro,  like  as  if  tired  of  it.  And  if  it  is 
your  pleasure,  sir,  will  you  see  the  gentleman  in 
your  own  room,  for  he  wishes  to  speak  to  you  in 
private  ?  " 

It  was  certainly  not  Mr.  Grewgious'  pleasure  to  do 
so,  but  he  seldom  consulted  that  as  to  his  actions,  and 
he  answered,  wearily — 

"  I   suppose   so,"    adding,    "  is    he   a   Cloisterham 
gentleman  ?  " 
Q 


226          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  No,  sir  ;  from  Lunnen,  sir.  Come  down  on  busi 
ness,  sir." 

"  A  gentleman  with  bushy  white  hair  ?  " 

"  No,  sir  ;    a  young  gent,  with  blue  spectables." 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Grewgious,  in  a  livelier  tone, 

"  my  clerk  from  town.     I  hope  there's  nothing  amiss." 

"  He  hasn't  said  there  is,  but  he  looks  like  thunder, 

and  have  rung  at  least  ten  times  to  ask  if  you  was 

come  ;    which  ain't  the  manners   of  a  gentleman," 

said  the  waiter,  indignant  at  this  presumption  on  the 

part  of  so  inferior  a  human  being,  "  and  might  a  showed 

me  as  he  was  only  a  clerk  or  something  of  that  sort." 

"  Bring  him  up  to  my  room,"  said  Mr.  Grewgious, 

without  further  comment,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 

new  clerk,  still  called  by  that  name  to  avoid  confounding 

him  with  that  lost  genius  and  unity,  Mr.  Bazzard,  stood 

before  him. 

"  Take  a  chair,  Mr.  Brandis,"  began  Mr.  Grewgious. 
"  I  hope  nothing's  the  matter.  Yet  stay,  you  are 
hungry  and  tired,  no  doubt,  let  me  order  some  refresh 
ment  for  you  first." 

But  the  young  man  came  forward,  until  close  to 
Mr.  Grewgious,  putting  the  strange  and  alarming 
enquiry — 

"  Do  you  know  me,  sir  ?  " 

There  was  something  so  new  in  the  low  and  agitated 
voice — strange,  and  yet  strangely  familiar — that  the 
old  man,  whose  nerves  were  still  shaken,  turned  a  shade 
paler,  as  he  answered,  trying  to  smile  as  if  it  were  a 
joke — 

"  My  senses  are  never  very  acute,  and  I  have  been 
alarmed  and  agitated  just  now,  but  unless  they  have 
quite  deserted  me,  I  think  I  do.  Come,  Mr.  Brandis, 
if  you  have  anything  to  communicate,  either  good  or 
bad,  out  with  it,  and  let  me  know  the  best  or  worst  at 
once." 

"  Look  once  more,  sir,  I  beseech  you.  Has  the  sight 
of  me  never  aroused  in  you  the  memory  of  another  ? 


A   DOUBLE    RESURRECTION  227 

Let  me  take  off  these  disfiguring  glasses.  Do  you 
know  me  now  ?  " 

As  he  raised  his  uncovered  eyes,  brimming  over  with 
tears,  Mr.  Grewgious  trembled  so  violently  that  he  was 
obliged  to  grasp  a  chair  near  him  for  support ;  but  when 
he  spoke,  his  voice  was  hard  and  cold,  and  cuttingly 
severe. 

"  I  know  this,  sir,  that  you  have  been  deceiving  me 
who  trusted  in  you  ;  and  that  I  am  cruelly  disappointed 
in  you,  therefore.  I  see,  also,  that  your  hair,  which 
was  dark  as  night,  has  changed  its  colour,  and  is  brown. 
You  have  been  disguising  yourself  for  some  purpose, 
and  disguise  is  false,  sir.  No  honourable  and  honest 
man  need  take  refuge  in  a  lie." 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,"  cried  the  young  man, 
wildly,  making  a  movement  as  if  he  would  have  flung 
himself  on  his  knees  before  his  master,  which,  however, 
Mr.  Grewgious  prevented  him  from  doing,  "  hear  me 
before  you  condemn  !  Oh,  my  benefactor  !  dear  to 
me  as  if  you  were  my  father  ;  whom  I  look  up  to 
and  reverence  next  to  God  ;  try  once  more  !  Listen 
to  the  sound  of  my  voice,  so  long  purposely  changed 
and  altered.  Look  at  my  face,  marked  as  if  years 
had  passed  over  it,  instead  of  only  months.  Fancy  me 
bright  and  young  and  happy,  as  I  was  before  all  my 
happiness  and  youth  were  blasted  by  a  fearful  crime. 
'Take  away  in  imagination  this  year's  growth  of  beard, 
and  imagine  the  face  without  it.  Oh,  Mr.  Grewgious, 
it  is  true  that  I  have  assumed  a  new  face  and  a  new 
voice  to  blind  you,  but  with  no  mean  or  base  motive  ! 
You  must,  must  know  me,  now." 

"  No,"  returned  the  old  man,  drawing  back  and 
holding  out  both  hands  as  if  to  repulse  him,  while 
every  drop  of  blood  vanished  out  of  his  shrunken 
cheeks,  "  I  do  not  know  you.  What  do  you  mean  by 
frightening  me  ?  How  do  you  dare  to  do  it !  " 

"  Then,"  said  the  young  man,  more  quietly,  but  with 
an  accent  of  such  intense  sadness,  that  it  struck  on 


228          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

the  tender  heart  of  Mr.  Grewgious  like  a  sharp  knife, 
"  I  must  be  changed  far  more  awfully  than  even  I  feared, 
and  might  have  spared  myself  the  trouble  of  this 
unnecessary  disguise  ;  for,  sir,  though  you  do  not  know 
me,  as  sure  as  there  is  a  God  above  us,  I  am  Edwin 
Drood !  " 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

IN   WHICH   MR.    CRISPARKLE  READS   A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT 

A  FEW  days  had  elapsed  since  the  unexpected  and 
marvellous  disclosure  to  Mr.  Grewgious,  and,  after  the 
first  burst  of  incredulous  surprise  and  even  terror, 
on  his  re-appearance,  when  every  one,  even  the  most 
sanguine,  had  long  abandoned  all  hope  of  his  possible 
escape,  the  new  Edwin  Drood  (so  different  from  the 
old  one,  that  it  seemed  as  natural  to  prefix  this 
adjective  to  his  name  as  if  he  had  really  been 
another)  was  gradually  beginning  to  be  believed  in. 

Yet,  but  for  the  evidence  of  the  ring  and  the  evidence 
of  the  desecrated  tomb  of  the  late  Mrs.  Sapsea,  every 
body,  not  excepting  Mr.  Grewgious,  might  have  been 
inclined  to  regard  him  as  a  cunning  impostor,  who, 
having  in  his  position  as  clerk  to  the  Collector  of  Rents 
obtained  possession  of  the  particulars  of  this  sad  family 
drama,  had  resolved  to  make  them  a  means  of  base 
profit  to  himself. 

For  Mr.  Crisparkle,  up  to  the  present  time,  had 
related  no  particulars  of  the  murderer's  confession, 
and  had  resolved  not  to  do  so  until  the  disclosure 
should  be  sanctioned  by  the  result  of  the  trial. 

Mr.  Grewgious  had  refused  to  hear  any  detailed 
account  of  the  escape  until  Mr.  Crisparkle  could  be 
present  as  one  of  the  auditors,  declaring  that  his  poor 
head  would  not  be  able  to  support  it  alone  ;  therefore, 
one  evening,  a  few  days  later,  the  Minor  Canon  and  the 
old  man  sat  down  together  in  the  cosy  book-room,  in 
Minor  Canon  Corner,  to  peruse  a  manuscript  which 
the  former  clerk  had  put  into  his  employer's  hand  : 

229 


230          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

begging  him  to  excuse  his  being  present  at  the  inter 
view,  for  the  remembrance  of  all  he  had  passed  through 
never  failed  completely  to  upset  him,  even  now.  He 
had  written  it  out,  he  added,  further,  during  the  last 
few  days  in  London,  because  the  necessity  of  keeping 
silence  for  his  uncle's  sake  had  been  changed,  by  altered 
circumstances,  into  a  necessity  to  disclose  the  real 
facts  of  the  case,  and  he  had  felt  he  could  do  it  more 
efficiently  in  this  manner. 

He  had  also  implored  the  old  man  to  refer  to  past 
events,  in  his  hearing,  as  little  as  possible  ;  although 
if  considered  necessary,  he  could  still  further  prove  his 
identity  by  minute  descriptions  of  places  and  persons, 
impossible  for  an  impostor  to  know. 

Then  Mr.  Crisparkle,  previously  narrating  to  Mr. 
Grewgious  such  outline  of  the  prisoner's  confession 
as  might  be  useful  in  comparing  the  accuracy  of  the 
two  narrations,  began  to  read  as  follows  : — 

"  I  need  go  no  further  back  in  this  narrative  of  my 
wonderful  and  almost  miraculous  escape  from  death 
and  the  grave,  than  to  the  evening  before  the  day  I  was 
missed,  to  last  Christmas  Eve. 

"  Hardly  one  full  year,  and  yet  time  enough  to  have 
made  me  such  a  different  being  to  what  I  was,  that  I 
fancy  sometimes  I  must  have  dreamed  the  past,  and 
that  I — the  I,  who  write  these  words — can  never  really 
have  been  the  light-hearted,  careless,  giddy  boy  whom 
the  world  knew  as  Edwin  Drood. 

"  Will  the  world  believe  me,  when  I  tell  them  that 
I  was  he,  or  will  it  (terrible  fear  which  appals  me,  not 
for  myself,  for  God  knows  that  I  suffer  as  much  in 
resuming  the  old  name  as  I  did  in  losing  it,  but  because 
the  certainty  of  my  being  alive  is  the  only  means  of 
saving  him,  my  uncle,  from  the  gallows) — will  it  reject 
my  claim,  and  damn  me  as  an  impostor  ? 

"  Only  one  short  year,  and  yet  it  might  be  ages, 
so  far,  far  back  must  I  go,  when  I  would  return  to  the 
thoughtless  days  of  my  youth,  and  the  last  evening 


A   LONG    MANUSCRIPT  231 

of  my  life,  as  it  was.  I  have  read  somewhere  of  a 
man,  a  doctor,  I  believe,  who  fell  asleep  only  ten 
minutes,  by  his  watch,  and  who  dreamed  in  that  time 
that  he  married ;  had  children  ;  saw  them  grow  up 
into  men  and  women  ;  became  a  grandfather  ;  lived 
a  long  life,  in  short,  in  ten  minutes.  I  slept  for  many 
weary  months,  and  dreamed  enough,  I  am  sure,  to 
have  long  since  attained  the  allotted  age  of  three 
score  years  and  ten. 

"  What  is  age,  after  all  ?  and  what  do  we  mean  by 
old  and  young  ?  Is  not  suffering,  with  its  attendant 
experience,  age  ?  Is  not  happiness,  fresh  and  bright, 
always  young  ?  There  are  worn  out  mothers  of 
families,  only  two  or  three  and  twenty  years  of  age  ; 
there  are  young  men  about  town  who  have  seen  fifty 
or  sixty  summers,  and  are  gay  boys  still. 

"  I  raise  my  head  to  look  into  the  glass  opposite, 
and  see  a  face  reflected  back,  familiar  to  me  now,  but 
which,  when  I  looked  at  it,  six  months  ago,  made 
me  turn  round  suddenly  to  see  what  stranger  was 
standing  behind  me.  A  face,  pale,  hollow-eyed, 
and  middle-aged  ;  somewhat  lined,  as  if  forty  years 
had  passed  over  it,  and  left  no  uncertain  marks 
behind. 

"  Combed  low  over  the  troubled  forehead,  clusters 
bright  brown  hair,  lit  up  with  a  touch  of  sunshine 
(I  have  washed  away  the  black  dye,  you  understand)  ; 
this  and  the  fresh  growth  of  beard,  which  frames 
the  worn  face,  and  covers  the  upper  lip,  are  the  only 
visible  tokens  of  youth  left  me,  and  of  brightness. 
Take  away  ten  years,  therefore,  in  deference  to  this 
legacy,  and  there  remain  thirty.  A  man,  certainly  not 
much  under  thirty  years,  and  aged  for  his  time  of  life. 
That  is  the  final  verdict,  after  careful  scrutiny.  No 
one  would  doubt  it. 

"  Yet  the  register  of  Edwin  Drood's  birth  is  only 
twenty-one  years  old,  and  the  clerk  who  wrote  it,  and 
the  witnesses  thereof,  are  living  still  and  could  prove 


232          A   GREAT    MYSTERY   SOLVED 

its  correctness.  Nevertheless,  for  all  that,  I  am  Edwin 
Drood,  or  rather  was — was. 

"  Let  me  return  to  that  evening  when  I  was  destined 
to  die,  and  yet  to  live — a  strange  anomaly.  I  cannot 
quite  understand  it  myself,  and  if  others  cannot  either, 
it  will  not  be  surprising. 

"  My  uncle,  Mr.  John  Jasper,  had  invited  me  and 
young  Landless  to  a  bachelors'  dinner  in  the  Gate 
House,  for  the  purpose  of  our  becoming  reconciled ; 
and  also  of  showing  to  the  world,  which  (that  is  to  say, 
that  bit  of  the  world,  Cloisterham)  had  taken  a  very 
absurd  interest  in  our  foolish  quarrel,  that  we  were 
reconciled. 

"  I  did  not  like  Mr.  Landless  ;  not'even  without  the 
particular  reason  which  afterwards  made  us  almost 
natural  enemies,  because  his  nature  was  so  opposed  to 
my  own,  and  so  superior,  as  I  could  not  but  acknow 
ledge,  that  I  fear  I  was  jealous.  He  was  about  the  same 
age  as  myself,  and  yet  so  different ;  so  grave,  earnest, 
and  manly  that  I  felt  at  a  disadvantage  beside 
him,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  confessed  myself 
the  "  stupid  boy  "  Rosa,  so  often  to  my  displeasure, 
called  me,  which  I  intended,  once  and  for  all,  sternly 
to  prohibit,  when  our  union  had  removed  me  from  the 
subordinate  position  of  lover  into  the  superior  one  of 
the  husband,  whom  it  would  be  her  duty  to  obey. 
I  meant  to  be  kind  and  indulgent  to  my  pretty  wife, 
but  to  show  her,  in  good  time,  who  was  to  be 
master ;  and  I  had  no  intention  of  putting  up  then 
with  her  '  nonsense,'  as  I  called  it,  as  I  had  been 
obliged  to  put  up  with  it,  during  our  unromantic 
courtship. 

"Ah  me  !  when  I  think  of  my  folly,  and  to  what 
depths  of  misery  it  might  have  brought  us — misery 
even  worse  than  that  I  suffer  now — but  for  the  courage, 
energy,  and  noble  nature  of  the  pretty  little  creature 
whom  I,  in  my  arrogance,  considered  so  inferior  to  me, 
yet  who,  upon  an  eminence  far  above,  had  been  quietly 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  233 

reading  and  understanding  every  foolish  purpose  of  my 
foolish  heart,  I  am  so  ashamed  of  the  boy,  whose  name 
I  must  assume  again,  that  it  increases  my  dislike  to 
doit. 

"  And  here  was  this  young  fellow,  treated  by  every 
one  with  marked  respect ;  spoken  of  as  '  Mr.  Landless  ' 
and  '  Mr.  Neville/  while  I  was  only  '  young  Drood/ 
or  '  Eddy,'  or  '  Ned/  or  idiot  and  booby,  perhaps, 
behind  my  back,  if  I  did  but  know  it.  Just  at  the  very 
time,  too,  when  I  would  have  wished  to  show  a  polish, 
equal  to  those  of  my  brightly-shining  leather  boots, 
bought  to  satisfy  Rosa,  and  which  glared  at  me,  as  my 
downcast  eyes  rested  there  in  despair  at  my  fancied 
ignominy,  as  if  they  were  impertinently  pointing  out 
to  me  the  contrast  between  my  dullness  and  their 
brilliancy. 

"  For,  the  stately  figure,  dark  beauty,  and  brilliant 
eyes  of  the  sister  of  this  young  man  had  already  made 
so  deep  an  impression  on  me,  that  I  felt  an  intense 
desire  to  appear  at  my  best,  instead  of,  as  I  was 
conscious  of  doing,  at  my  very  worst. 

"  As  I  sat  opening  and  shutting  Miss  Twinkleton's 
fan,  apparently  my  thoughtless  self,  and  treated  by 
everybody  (so  I  imagined)  exactly  as  Jack  often  treated 
me  :  like  a  fortunate  fellow  who  had  won  the  first  prize 
in  a  lottery,  without,  of  course,  ever  having  done  any 
thing  to  deserve  it,  I  was  seized  with  an  almost  irre 
sistible  impulse  to  fling  the  fan  into  the  face  of  that 
stuck-up  and  coxcomb  brother  who  so  coolly  put  me 
aside,  as  if,  being  the  winner  of  the  first  prize,  I  could 
be  no  possible  competitor  for  the  second. 

"  I  dare  say  there  are  many  men,  and  women  too, 
who,  having  won  something  rare  and  beautiful,  are 
apt  to  regard  it  with  an  indifferent  eye,  as  having  lost 
its  value  through  possession.  That  was  my  case.  I 
was  fully  aware  that  my  lovely  betrothed  was  a  jewel 
beyond  price  ;  but  it  was  mine,  and  had  been  mine  so 
long  that  I  had  grown  accustomed  to  its  beauty,  even 


234         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

fancied  I  could  detect  flaws  in  it,  and  was  half  weary  of 
what  I  had  attained  without  any  trouble. 

"  And  might  I  not  dare  to  admire  another  ?  Why, 
he,  the  coxcomb  brother,  was  casting  looks  of  fiery 
admiration  at  my  possession,  and  /  didn't  mind. 

"  No  !  the  reason  which  Cloisterham  assigned  for  it 
was  not  the  reason  why  I  did  not  like  Landless.  Rosa 
was  so  certainly  mine,  that  it  only  gratified  my  vanity 
to  see  her  admired.  Just  as  if  she  were  a  valuable 
jewel,  of  which  I  was  the  possessor  and  which  I  could 
feign  to  regard  with  indifference,  although  I  was  willing 
to  acknowledge  that  she  would  make  a  pretty  ornament, 
with  the  sharp  corners,  which  wounded  me,  rounded 
off,  and  set  in  our  married  home,  of  which  I  was  to  be 
lord,  and  she  the  dutiful  wife. 

"  So,  in  my  way,  and  shown  according  to  my  nature, 
which  was  not  explosive  like  his,  I  was  quite  as  full  of 
passionate  dislike  towards  Landless  as  he  towards  me  ; 
and  I  wish  to  state  emphatically,  now,  with  the  know 
ledge  of  the  suffering  he  has  endured  since  then  brought 
forcibly  home  to  me,  that  I  was  the  provoker  in  the 
quarrel  between  us  ;  and  that  though  his  hot  and  fiery 
disposition  may  have  blazed  up  with  peculiar  readiness 
at  the  first  contact  with  the  match  I  lit,  yet  I  was  the 
one  to  cause  the  explosion,  and  that  I  humbly  pray  him 
to  forgive  me,  as  I  have  prayed  God  to  do  so,  although 
I  can  never  forgive  myself. 

"  Mr.  Grewgious — you  to  whom  I  address  these  pages 
— my  noble  benefactor !  my  truest  friend !  you  were  the 
first  to  open  my  blinded  eyes,  and  show  me  what  love, 
true  love  towards  a  chosen  wife,  ought  to  be.  Not 
that  I  comprehended  clearly,  at  first ;  yet  I  tremblingly 
felt  that  I  was  on  the  verge  of  an  abyss,  and  that  a  few 
more  heedless  steps  might  be  fatal  to  both  Rosa  and 
myself.  And  if  I  know  now,  that  which  I  dimly  felt 
then,  what  true  love  is,  the  agony  of  soul  the  knowledge 
has  brought  me  may  atone  perhaps  in  some  measure 
for  my  reckless  folly. 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  235 

"  From  your  honoured  lips  (inspired  almost  as  it 
seems  to  me  ;  or  had  you  discovered  the  real  nature  of 
the  chains,  already  galling,  which  bound  us  two  young 
things  ? — young  enough  to  have  aroused  sincere  pity  for 
the  fate  impending),  I  learned  in  what  hallowed  light 
a  man  ought  to  regard  the  woman  he  would  make  his 
wife.  Not  as  an  ornament  for  himself,  or  for  his  house  ; 
not  as  a  toy  to  play  with,  or  to  cast  aside  heedlessly, 
when  tired  of  it ;  not  as  a  child  to  be  loved  and  caressed, 
petted  or  punished ;  not  as  his  housekeeper,  and  possible 
mother  of  his  children — his  absolute  property  anyway, 
and  to  be  treated  ill  or  well,  according  to  his  sovereign 
pleasure.  Ah  !  as  none  of  these,  for  either  misery, 
absolute  misery,  must  be  the  inevitable  result,  or  cool 
indifference,  almost  sadder  still.  As  the  light  of  his 
life  he  must  regard  her,  sent  by  heaven  to  brighten  the 
dull  round  of  earthly  duties,  and  make  them  not  only 
bearable,  but  pleasurable,  for  the  love  of  her — as  the 
completion  of  himself,  the  other  half  which  makes  him 
first  into  a  whole.  No  angel,  for  an  angel  would  not 
suit  his  nature,  but  a  human  being  like  himself ;  and 
I  wonder,  as  I  write,  at  the  marvellous  stupidity  which 
would  set  the  sexes  in  opposition,  or  venture  to 
compare  them,  when  it  was  so  evidently  the  intention  of 
the  Creator  that  the  one  should  be  the  complement 
of  the  other. 

"  But  I  am  digressing,  and  am  almost  inclined  to 
leave  out  the  last  paragraph,  as  the  crudeness  natural 
to  a  youth  who,  though  feeling  so  old — so  old,  has  been 
an  inmate  of  the  world  he  criticises,  only,  after  all, 
twenty-one  years.  Yet  the  solitariness  of  my  present 
life  is  favourable  to  reflection,  and  I  do  reflect,  and  have 
reflected  much,  more  than  is  healthful  probably. 

"  You  will  have  heard  an  account,  no  doubt,  of  my 
last  interview  with  Rosa,  for  later  events  would  impose 
on  her  the  necessity  of  revealing  it.  I  had  gone  to  her 
with  more  real  humility  than  I  had  ever  felt  before,  I 
think,  and  yet  with  a  half -feeling  of  pride  too,  that  I 


236          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

should  be  the  one  to  open  her  eyes,  as  you  had  opened 
mine. 

"  Alas  for  my  foolish  vanity,  doomed  to  so  complete 
a  humiliation  !  Before  I  had  time  to  begin  my  exposi 
tion  and  to  consult  with  her  as  to  whether,  after  all, 
we  loved  each  other  sufficiently  to  venture  upon  a  life 
together,  she  was  speaking  to  me,  and  with  no  uncertain 
sound.  She,  whom  I  had  looked  upon  as  a  pretty  toy, 
almost  incapable  of  earnest  thought — she,  with  no  one 
to  help  her,  had  been  entertaining  the  same  doubts  for 
many  months,  to  which  my  foolish  brain  had  only  just 
given  access,  through  the  agency  of  another. 

"  I  acceded  to  her  proposition  that  we  should  dissolve 
our  engagement ;  how  could  I  do  otherwise,  with  my 
own  newly  aroused  doubts  to  back  her  up  ?  though 
with  a  heavy  heart.  I  felt  so  deeply  grieved,  that  it 
surprised  me  myself.  I  supposed  I  had  sense  enough  to 
feel  that  I  had  not  only  lost  a  beautiful  jewel,  but  a 
loving  woman,  the  depths  of  whose  generous  and  earnest 
nature  I  had  never  thought  of  sounding. 

"  Therefore,  I  was  no  longer  angry  with  young 
Landless,  or  resented  his  mean  opinion  of  one  who  had 
sunk  so  low  in  his  own  estimation.  And  as  the  face  of 
his  beautiful  sister  rose  vividly  before  me,  I  almost 
felt  a  wish  to  become  his  friend,  and  thus  pave  the 
way  towards  the  winning  of  the  second  prize,  now 
that  I  had  lost  the  first." 

Mr.  Grewgious,  listening  with  rapt  attention,  was 
surprised  to  see  the  Minor  Canon  suddenly  lay  down 
the  manuscript  and  energetically  and  almost  angrily 
attack  the  waning  fire.  Perhaps  the  clergyman's 
gentle  heart  was  wounded  and  mortified  at  hearing, 
for  the  second  time,  his  beautiful  choice  spoken  of  as  an 
inferior  prize ;  perhaps  some  spark  of  latent  jealousy 
was  fanned  into  action,  by  this  reference  to  her  in 
connection  with  another.  But  the  momentary  irri 
tation  faded  and  gave  place  to  a  look  and  smile  of  happy 
confidence,  and  before  the  Collector  of  Rents  had  quite 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  237 

had  time  to  screw  his  eyes  into  the  right  focus  for 
observing  him,  he  had  resumed  his  reading. 

"  Yet,  notwithstanding  this  new  fancy,  my  sad 
heart  told  me  that  no  woman  could  quite  replace  my 
pretty  Rosa  ;  and  my  feet,  sore  with  the  rough  walking 
in  the  valley  of  humiliation,  grew  impatient  to  carry  me 
away  out  of  dull  Cloisterham,  where  the  pain  was  most 
acute.  That  Christmas  Eve  I  said  good-bye  to  it  in 
imagination,  and  shed  some  of  the  bitterest  tears  I  had 
ever  shed  till  then.  My  heart  was  heavy  with  gloomy 
forebodings,  as  though  I  were  destined  never  to  see  the 
old  familiar  place  again.  I  did  not  know  that  it  was 
not  Cloisterham  I  was  going  to  lose,  but  my  own 
identity. 

"  The  dinner  was  a  dull  affair  enough.  Landless  and 
I  had  met  with  every  appearance  of  frank  cordiality 
before  Jack  joined  us.  It  was  well  he  did,  not  that 
there  was  any  danger  of  our  quarrelling  again — we 
were  both  too  depressed  for  that,  he  as  well  as  I — 
but  to  raise  our  spirits  which,  after  the  first  spasmodic 
effort  at  cheerfulness,  were  sinking  fast  again.  I  don't 
know  what  was  the  matter  with  him,  but  I  could  not 
help  remembering  with  a  sharp  pang  of  jealousy,  the 
first  pang  I  had  ever  felt  from  that  source,  and  now  I 
had  no  right  whatever  to  feel  it — that  if  I  was  free  to 
cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  his  sister,  he  was  also 
free  to  make  love  to  Rosa  ;  and  wondering  if  he  would 
have  the  infernal  impudence  to  do  it. 

"  My  sadness,  during  the  progress  of  the  meal, 
seemed  to  undergo  a  sort  of  fermenting  process,  and  to 
be  gathering  into  anger,  rapidly.  Not  particularly  with 
Landless.  With  everybody,  myself  most  of  all. 
What  a  sheep's  head  I  had.  What  a  blundering  fool 
I  was  !  Such  were  the  compliments  I  showered  upon 
myself  incessantly  and  unmercifully.  I  wished  I  had 
been  a  boy  again,  and  that  somebody  would  give  me 
a  sound  flogging.  I  so  richly  deserved  it,  that  I  almost 
longed  to  suffer  the  pain  and  humiliation.  The  smart 


238          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

of  the  body  might  act  as  a  counter-irritant  to  the  smart 
of  the  mind,  and  do  me  good. 

"  But  unfortunately  there  was  no  one  possessing 
authority  enough  over  me  to  try  this  remedy,  and  I 
went  on  getting  angry  with  every  one  in  turn.  There 
were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tope,  she  one  beam  of  horrible  con 
gratulation  on  the  nearness  of  what  was  never  to  be ; 
he  coarse  enough  to  whisper  in  my  ear,  as  he  handed 
me  the  potatoes,  '  I've  a  promised  Mrs.  Tope  a  new 
gownd  for  the  occasion,  and  I  don't  grudge  it,  Mr. 
Edwin.'  I  could  have  knocked  him  down  upon  the 
spot,  but,  restraining  myself,  only  refused  potatoes 
with  a  sharpness  that  must  have  brought  him  to  his 
senses,  or,  at  any  rate,  to  a  sense  of  his  position. 

"  There  was  Jack,  too,  so  remarkably  lively  and  gay, 
that  I  nearly  worked  myself  into  believing  he  did  it  to 
insult  me.  But  as  I  saw  in  his  face,  turned  towards  me 
lovingly  as  ever,  nothing  but  the  well-known  look  of 
engrossing  affection,  I  was  so  ashamed  that  I  could  have 
sobbed  out  like  a  naughty  but  penitent  child — '  Oh, 
Jack,  for  mercy's  sake,  fetch  the  thickest  stick  you've 
got  in  the  house,  and  break  it  over  my  ungrateful  back.' 

"  It  was  a  gloomy  dinner,  in  spite  of  all  Jack's  efforts 
to  make  it  cheerful.  I  don't  know  whether  it  was 
a  sort  of  reaction  from  the  melancholy  which  had 
oppressed  me  all  the  day,  or  whether  I  was  in  the  firts 
stage  of  an  illness,  as  I  have  sometimes  thought  since, 
but  even  as  the  wind  out  of  doors  began  to  rise  into 
fury,  so  my  whole  nature,  body  and  spirit,  did  the  same, 
and  it  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  repress  all  outward 
sign  of  the  storm  within  me.  As  for  Landless,  his 
smiles  were  so  forced  and  constrained  that,  even  in  my 
excited  state,  I  could  almost  have  pitied  him.  It  was 
an  egregious  mistake  of  Jack's,  to  bring  two  young 
men,  with  such  a  marked  want  of  sympathy  between 
them,  together  for  a  whole  long  evening.  We  ought 
to  have  shaken  hands  in  the  open  street,  and  then  have 
gone  our  different  ways. 


A   LONG    MANUSCRIPT  239 

"  And  even  Jack's  manner  appeared  to  me  unnatural 
on  closer  scrutiny.  He  was  unusually  gay ;  quite  ex 
cited,  in  short.  When,  at  last,  he  proposed  my  health, 
happiness,  and  prosperity,  particularly  with  regard  to  a 
certain  near  event,  which  he  need  not  further  specify, 
I  felt  almost  frightened  at  the  look  with  which  he 
accompanied  his  words.  The  scalding  tears  of  anger 
and  mortification  rose  to  my  eyes,  and  had  to  be 
swallowed  with  the  ruby  wine,  which  sickened  me. 

"  I  was  heartily  glad  when  the  dinner  was  over,  and 
Jack  sat  down  to  sing  and  play  to  us.  It  was  a  relief  to 
escape  for  a  time  the  steady,  searching  gaze,  almost 
always  resting  on  my  face.  I  began  to  think  he  must,  in 
some  way  or  other,  have  heard  of  my  loss.  If  I  had  not 
promised  Rosa,  I  would  have  told  him  all  about  it,  I 
thought ;  I  so  longed  for  sympathy — I  so  longed  to  pour 
out  my  sorrows  into  a  friendly  ear.  Anything  would  be 
better  than  this  feeling  of  absolute  loneliness  ;  even 
severe  reproof. 

"  The  storm  raged  furiously  all  the  evening,  and 
when  Landless  took  his  leave,  Jack  proposed  that  I 
should  go  down  to  the  river  with  Landless  to  see  to 
perfection  the  grandeur  of  it.  I  did  not  want  to  go, 
I  am  sure,  for,  though  never  before  sensitive  to  atmos 
pheric  influence,  this  storm  seemed  to  be  raging  all  at 
me,  and  its  echo  resounding  in  my  heart.  And  the  wind, 
to  my  fancy  (although  I  wasn't  a  bit  sentimental  or 
fanciful  by  nature),  would  remind  me  of  a  drunken  old 
woman,  who  had  begged  of  me  that  afternoon,  and 
who  had  told  me  in  going  away,  that  I  might  be  thank 
ful  that  my  name  wasn't  Ned,  for  Ned  was  in  danger  of 
his  life.  I  had  made  light  of  it  at  the  time,  but  I 
couldn't  make  light  of  it  now,  because  the  wind, 
howling  in  my  ear,  kept  saying,  '  And  you  are,  are,  are 
Ned  ;  you  know  you  are.' 

"  '  Oh,  Rosa,  Rosa,'  I  sobbed,  as,  after  having  taken 
leave  of  Landless  in  Minor  Canon  Corner,  I  fought  my 
way  back  to  the  Gate  House,  through  the  storm,  now 


240         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

a  perfect  hurricane,  '  you  never  loved  me,  I  know, 
but  I  love  you — I  feel  I  do,  now  that  all  is  over  between 
us  ;  and  it  is  that  which  is  making  me  so  wicked  and 
so  utterly  miserable/ 

"  '  You  are,  are,  are,  are  Ned/  so  the  wind  kept 
shrieking,  with  a  voice  that  would  not  be  silenced,  until 
I  should  like  to  have  stopped  my  ears  to  keep  out  the 
sound.  '  You  are,  are,  are,  are  Ned/  as  I  turned  in  under 
the  gateway  where  Jack  was  standing  waiting  for  me. 

"  It  was  so  imprudent  of  Jack  to  expose  himself  so 
unnecessarily,  with  his  delicate  throat,  that  I  was  angry 
with  him  on  his  account  at  first.  It  was  so  aggravating 
of  Jack  to  look  after  me  as  if  I  were  a  child  who  could 
not  take  care  of  myself  that  I  was  doubly  angry  with 
him  on  that  account  too.  He  must  have  noticed  my 
irritation  when  I  spoke,  though  I  tried  to  subdue  it. 

"  He  wanted  me  to  accompany  him  to  the  church 
yard,  to  see,  as  I  believed,  some  particular  ravages 
which  the  storm  had  committed.  I  considered  it  the 
purest  folly,  trembling  with  cold  as  I  was  already, 
even  in  my  warm  great  coat  and  fur  cap  drawn  down 
over  my  forehead,  and  opposed  it  as  energetically  as 
I  could. 

"  I  was  tired  to  death  of  the  storm,  and  the  monot 
onous  warning  of  the  wind,  meaning  nothing,  of  course, 
but  not  the  less  disagreeable  to  listen  to.  But  I  had 
to  give  way.  Somehow  or  other  I  always  had  to  give 
way  to  Jack  when  there  was  a  difference  between  us  : 
and  I  did  so  now  as  ever,  though  not  without  a  feeling 
of  resentment,  and  a  touch  of  wonder  at  his  almost 
passionate  earnestness  about  such  a  trifle.  But  with 
no  suspicion — no,  not  with  a  shadow  of  suspicion. 

"  '  You  are,  are,  are,  are  Ned.  You  are,  are,  are,  are 
Ned/  So  the  wind  again,  as  it  struggled  to  tear  us 
from  one  another.  But  I  clung  to  Jack,  and  he  held  me 
tight,  and  we  defied  the  wind  together — the  moaning, 
wailing,  baffled  wind  which  fled,  shrieking  wildly. 
But  it  came  again,  and  again,  and  again.  Alas  !  my 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  241 

ears  were  deaf  to  the  meaning  of  the  warning !  If  I 
had  but  heeded  it,  I  might  have  saved  him,  my  wretched 
uncle. 

"  How  often  God  sends  warning  to  those  in  danger, 
and  how  often  they  heedlessly  neglect  to  profit  thereby. 
How  many  sufferers,  by  what  are  called  unforeseen 
events,  must  have  been  conscious  of  an  inward  voice, 
pointing  out  some  possible  danger,  to  which  they 
turned  persistently  a  deaf  and  careless  ear. 

"  Looking  back  upon  my  own  experience,  I  seem  to 
see  the  outstretched  hand  of  God  pointing  ever  towards 
the  right  and  safe  road,  and  know  that  disobedience 
to  its  behests,  indifference  to  the  inward  warning,  may 
lead  to  terrible  danger,  and  cause  endless  suffering. 

"  When  we  reached  the  shelter  of  the  Cathedral, 
Jack  bade  me  go  on  ahead.  I  was  feeling  strangely 
unwell,  with  a  restless  heat  and  pain  inside  me,  to  which 
I  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger.  Suddenly  (I  had  raised 
my  head  to  look  up  at  the  Cathedral,  fancying  it  was 
something  connected  with  it  that  I  was  to  see)  all  the 
pain  and  uneasy  sense  of  fullness  in  my  chest  and 
stomach  rushed  to  my  head.  I  saw  the  Cathedral 
totter  and  reel ;  it  was  falling  on  me,  and  the  next 
moment  I  lay  dead  beneath  it. 

"  Then  a  long  blank,  followed  by  a  troubled  dream. 
Jack  and  I  were  playing  together,  boys  again.  We 
were  playing  at  horses,  and  Jack,  instead  of  putting  the 
bit  between  my  teeth,  had  tied  it  round  my  throat — 
so  tight,  so  tight  that  my  head  ached  frightfully,  and 
I  could  hardly  breathe.  He  laughed  at  my  distress, 
mocking  me,  while  I  feebly  put  up  my  hand  to  loosen  it. 

"  I  was  better  now,  though  my  head  still  ached  as  if 
it  would  split,  and  my  tongue  seemed  so  much  too  large 
for  my  mouth,  that  I  wondered  feebly  how  it  managed 
to  find  room  there.  I  was  lying  on  my  bed  in  the  Gate 
House,  and  it  was  hard,  and  hurt  me,  and  I  could  not 
remember,  for  the  life  of  me,  how  I  got  there,  and  what 
had  happened  yesterday.  I  tried  so  hard  to  bring  back 


242          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

to  my  remembrance  what  happened  yesterday,  that  I 
thought  my  aching  head  would  burst.  It  was  some 
thing  of  importance,  I  knew.  Ah  !  I  remembered  it 
at  last.  I  had  been  with  Jack  to  see  something  ;  but 
what,  I  could  not  recall.  Something  in  the  church 
yard  ;  oh  dear  !  what  was  it  in  the  churchyard  ? 

"  Good  God !  the  Cathedral  had  been  blown  down 
upon  me,  and  I  was  dead,  or  if  not  dead,  buried  under 
the  ruins,  and  doomed  to  perish  of  starvation.  The 
agony  of  this  horrible  thought  gave  me  strength  to  rise 
and  push  away  something  hard  and  heavy  covering 
me. 

"  There  was  light  somewhere,  a  feeble  light,  like  the 
dim  light  of  a  lantern.  It  was  a  lantern,  and  Jack  was 
lying  beside  it,  dead  too,  with  his  glassy  eyes  wide  open, 
and  an  awful  look  of  terror  on  his  ghastly  face.  And 
I — I  was  lying  in  a  coffin  ! 

"  The  dread,  which  every  human  being,  in  whom  is 
still  the  breath  of  life,  feels  instinctively  for  this  last 
house  of  the  dead,  made  me  exert  the  little  strength  I 
had,  to  get  out  as  soon  as  possible  ;  and  only  when  I 
had  accomplished  this,  and  stood  beside  Jack,  who  was 
unconscious,  and  who  lay  rigid  and  motionless,  I  began 
to  reflect. 

"  This  was  a  vault,  evidently,  and  we  had  both  been 
cast  into  it  by  the  fall  of  the  Cathedral.  But  how  did 
I  come  into  the  coffin  ?  and  who  had  put  me  there  ? 
I  could  not  answer  these  questions,  yet  I  avoided  touch 
ing  or  rousing  Jack,  with  a  dread  for  which  I  could  not 
account,  and  some  impulse  made  me  carefully  replace 
the  lid  of  the  coffin  before  seeking  means  of  egress ; 
for  I  must  get  out  of  this  horrible  place,  and  hide  myself 
from  Jack's  glassy  stare,  which  seemed  to  follow  me 
menacingly,  and  note  every  movement  I  made. 

"  By  the  feeble  light,  I  made  out  a  few  stone  steps, 
up  which  I  clambered,  and  the  door  above,  yielding  to 
my  desperate  thrust,  opened,  and  let  me  out  into  the 
air.  The  storm  had  abated  somewhat,  though  the 


A   LONG    MANUSCRIPT  243 

wind  was  busy  still,  and  began  again  as  soon  as  it  felt 
my  presence,  though  using  one  different  word.  It 
said  no  more,  '  you  are,'  but '  you  were,  were  Ned,  you 
see.' 

"  By  the  fitful  light  of  the  moon,  sometimes  breaking 
through  the  driving  clouds,  I  was  able  to  make  my  way 
to  a  tall  monument  near  at  hand ;  for  I  was  in  the 
churchyard,  and  could  see  that  the  Cathedral,  sound 
and  massive  as  ever,  was  still  standing  where  it  had 
stood  before. 

"  Behind  the  monument  grew  a  weeping  ash,  whose 
low  branches  swept  the  ground,  and  under  this  shelter 
I  crept  out  of  the  biting,  mocking  wind,  and  pitiless 
storm.  I  was  tolerably  protected  there,  and  I  cowered 
down  upon  the  cold,  damp  earth,  waiting. 

"  Waiting.  For  what,  I  did  not  know.  Not  for 
Jack,  certainly,  whom  I  had  left  behind  in  the  vault, 
dead  or  swooning,  and  of  whom  I  dared  not  think,  for 
something  too  horrible  to  be  entertained  was  dawning 
upon  me,  in  spite  of  myself.  A  vision  so  terrible,  that 
the  mere  notion  paralyzed  me.  But  my  head  was 
turned  towards  the  little  door,  hidden  from  me  now, 
as  was  the  moon,  and  all  my  faculties  were  absorbed  in 
it,  and  in  dread  waiting  for  the  next  manifestation. 

"  I  have  no  notion  how  long  I  waited,  with  my  eyes 
upon  the  fatal  door,  now  fully  visible  in  the  sharp  light 
of  the  moon,  now  lost  in  darkness,  deep  and  awful.  It 
might  have  been  an  hour,  it  might  have  been  only  ten 
minutes.  I  was  not  capable  of  connected  thought,  but 
crouched  there  waiting,  waiting  for  what  would  follow. 

"  At  last,  at  last,  the  door  opened,  and  some  one  came 
out,  carrying  a  lantern  ;  the  lantern  which  I  had  seen 
burning  in  the  vault. 

"  I  felt  it  was  Jack,  before  I  saw  him.  The  wind  told 
me  so  as  it  sped  past  me  to  the  attack.  The  lantern 
was  extinguished  in  a  moment,  but  the  moon  shone  out 
bright  again  between  the  driving  clouds,  and  showed 
me  his  face  in  brilliant  light. 


244          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

"  Then  I  comprehended  all,  with  the  rapidity  and 
intensity  of  a  flash  of  lightning;  all,  everything.  I 
knew  that  Jack  had  meant  to  murder  me.  And  I 
knew  why. 

"  His  face  was  sternly  set,  ghastly  white,  and  awful 
to  look  upon,  yet  full  of  fierce  triumph  too.  He  was 
evidently  entirely  unconscious  of  my  escape,  for  after 
quietly  relocking  the  door,  he  looked  up  victoriously 
to  the  moon,  his  only  witness,  as  he  thought,  and  his 
lips  parted  in  a  smile. 

"  Such  a  smile  !  Oh,  heaven,  it  has  haunted  my 
dreams  for  one  long  year,  and  I  fear  the  remembrance 
will  never  be  effaced,  but  will  still  haunt  me  to  my 
dying  day  !  Not  that  it  was  distorted  or  horrible. 
It  was  grand  almost ;  like  the  fierce  grandeur  of  a  fallen 
angel,  who  has  dared  to  cast  down  the  gauntlet  at  the 
feet  of  God.  And,  though  triumphant,  it  was  remark 
able,  too,  for  a  sort  of  unutterable  sadness,  as  if  a  long- 
borne  agony  had  fashioned  it  so  for  ever. 

"  Agony !  oh,  merciful  God,  what  excruciating 
tortures  must  he  have  endured,  to  bring  him  to  this. 
And  if  I  could  only  have  told  him  in  time,  he  might  have 
been  saved,  he  and  I  also. 

"  I  understood  now  Rosa's  last  look,  that  look  of 
astonished  and  imploring  enquiry.  She  had  known 
that  he  loved  her,  and  I,  in  my  boyish  folly  and  egotism, 
had  never  even  imagined  the  possibility  of  such  a 
thing.  And  yet  I  could  have  given  her  up  to  him,  I 
could  then. 

"  My  heart  ached  with  pity  for  the  sufferings  which 
my  heedless  tongue  had  inflicted,  hundreds  of  times. 
How  my  thoughtless  boastings  must  have  lacerated 
his  bleeding  wounds.  And  he  had  warned  me,  too, 
tried  to  warn  me,  tried  to  save  me  if  he  could.  Oh, 
Jack  !  Poor,  poor  Jack  !  My  thoughtless  hands  had 
bound  him  daily  upon  the  rack,  until  the  torture  had 
driven  him  mad. 

"  Now,  thank  God  upon  my  bended  knees,  for  having 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  245 

spared  him  this  terrible  crime,  and  having  saved  me 
from  being  cut  off  in  my  sins.  I  prayed  as  I  had  never 
prayed  before,  that  He  would  support  me  with  His 
gracious  hand,  and  give  me  strength  as  long  as  I  had 
need  of  it. 

"  I  scrambled  to  my  feet  again,  and  strove  to  think 
what  was  the  best  course  to  pursue.  As  I  did  so,  I 
stumbled  over  the  long  ends  of  a  silken  scarf  about  my 
neck.  With  this  he  must  have  intended  to  strangle 
me,  and  must  have  believed  he  had. 

"  I  have  thought  since  then,  not  at  the  time,  for  I 
was  too  confused,  that  this  scarf  must  have  got  loosened 
somehow,  when  he  was  carrying  me  to  the  vault,  and 
that  in  this  way  I  was  enabled  to  breathe  again. 
Perhaps  my  uncle  took  no  particular  pains  to  make 
certain  of  my  death  after  I  lost  consciousness,  knowing 
that  he  was  bringing  me  to  a  place  where  escape  would 
be  impossible.  So  it  would  have  been,  but  for  his 
swoon,  which  gave  me  time  to  fly.  And  yet  I 
cannot  believe  that  he  could  have  contemplated  the 
possibility  of  my  being  buried  alive.  No,  I  am  sure, 
strange  as  it  seems,  that  he  believed  me  to  be  surely 
dead. 

"  I  was  dressed  in  my  usual  walking  costume,  with 
my  greatcoat  on,  and  had  even  mechanically  replaced 
on  my  head  my  fur  cap,  which  had  been  lying  beside 
me  in  the  coffin.  But  my  watch  was  gone.  I  knew 
that ;  because  as  I  wondered  what  the  time  might  be, 
I  had,  instinctively,  out  of  habit,  laid  my  hand  upon 
the  watch  pocket  in  my  waistcoat,  and  had  found  it 
empty. 

"  I  must  fly,  fly  while  I  had  strength  of  body  to  do  so 
— and  I  felt  that  would  not  be  the  case  for  long — for 
Jack's  sake,  to  save  him  from  the  consequences  of  his 
crime.  I  can  truly  say  that,  at  that  moment,  I  thought 
as  little  of  myself  as  of  any  one  else  but  him  ;  and  as 
old  remembrances  of  what,  and  how  much,  he  had  been 
to  me  all  my  life,  came  back  to  me  in  a  flood,  I  only 


246         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

longed  to  shield  and  rescue  him,  though  he  would  never 
know  it. 

"  I  was  chilled  to  the  bone,  from  lying  on  the  wet 
grass,  and  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  and  the  bitter, 
wintry  blast,  tearing  over  me  like  a  flood,  seemed  to  be 
carrying  away,  little  by  little,  the  feeble  remnants  of 
the  life  remaining  to  me.  Yet  I  dared  not  die,  for  then 
I  should  be  powerless  to  save  him,  either  from  the 
punishment  of  the  crime  to  which  a  passionate  love  had 
brought  him,  or,  still  worse,  from  the  crime  itself. 

"  Suddenly,  as  if  a  ministering  angel  had  whispered 
it  to  me,  inspired  with  heavenly  pity  for  us  both,  I 
thought  of  the  little  flask  of  brandy,  which  Jack  had 
given  me  to  drink  and  warm  myself  with,  before  enter 
ing  the  churchyard.  Had  I  got  it  by  me  still  ?  If  so, 
then  it  would  impart  new  life,  and  we  might  both  be 
saved — for  this  confused  thought  always  rose  upper 
most  to  my  bewildered  brain,  and  was  the  one  influ 
encing  me  so  strongly,  that  as  no  one  would  succeed  in 
discovering  my  body,  no  one  would  be  able  to  charge 
my  disappearance  against  Jack. 

"  Yes  !  I  had  it  still  in  the  pocket  where  I  had  placed 
it.  Thank  God,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul !  I  drank 
deep  and  long,  and  as  the  liquid  fire  circulated  through 
every  vein,  rewarming  and  revivifying  for  a  time,  my 
powerless  limbs  regained  some  portion  of  their  lost 
vigour,  and  were  able  to  obey  the  commands  which  my 
brain  had  still  sense  and  power  to  dictate. 

"  Where  I  should  go  ?  what  road  I  should  take  ? 
or  whither  would  my  feet,  left  to  their  own  free  will, 
carry  me  ?  were  questions  which  I  neither  asked  nor 
could  have  answered.  Anywhere,  far  away  from 
Cloisterham,  away  from  Jack,  away  from  Jack's  possible 
accusers  !  So  I  sped  into  the  night — the  future  as  dark 
and  overshadowed  as  the  heaven  above  my  head — 
the  prospect  before  me  as  uncertain  as  the  cruel  and 
relentless,  ever  shifting  wind. 

"  On,  through  darkness  which  might  be  felt ;    my 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  247 

progress  one  continual  battle  with  the  storm,  many 
tongued,  and  which,  when  broken  through,  followed 
me,  full  of  terrible  forebodings.  On,  during  the  long 
night,  of  which  so  much  remained,  as  to  make  me  feel 
almost  sure  that  I  must  have  let  the  day  pass  me 
unawares.  On,  through  the  grey,  reluctant  morning, 
struggling  against  the  necessity  of  appearing  at  all 
upon  the  scene.  On,  during  the  whole  of  the  feeble, 
short-lived  day,  until  darkness  returned  more  friendly 
than  the  light,  for  it  covered  me  up  from  the  eyes  of  all 
men  ;  and  then,  night  again. 

"  At  last  I  found  myself  looking  curiously  at  myriads 
of  shining  stars,  which  looked  back  at  me  cunningly, 
and  I  said  to  myself,  pressing  a  cold  and  trembling  hand 
upon  my  forehead — '  I  am  quite  calm  and  clear,  and 
not  mad  as  the  lying  wind  would  tell  me  if  I  would  listen 
to  it.  These  are  not  God's  eyes  which  can  see  into  my 
heart  like  those  out  upon  the  roadside.  They  are  as 
weak  and  extinguishable  as  the  men  who  lit  them,  and 
cannot  read  my  secret,  though  they  wink  so  knowingly. 
They  are  the  lights  of  a  great  city.  This  is  London  !  ' 

"  I  have  some  vague  idea  that  I  entered  a  house  here, 
rested,  ate  and  drank.  I  cannot  tell  whether  this  is 
fact,  or  only  fancy,  induced  perhaps  by  the  body's 
natural  craving  for  sustenance  and  repose.  A  similar 
notion  haunts  me,  that  a  number  of  people  came 
peering  around  me  with  curious  eyes,  all  eager  to  learn 
my  secret,  and  that  I  asked  them  over  and  over  again 
with  increasing  earnestness,  to  believe  that  it  was  not  I 
who  murdered  Jack  ;  that  no  power  on  earth  could 
have  induced  me  to  commit  so  foul  a  crime ;  that  he 
was  my  only  relative  and  kindest  benefactor,  and  that 
I  would  have  died  a  thousand  times  over,  rather  than 
have  done  it.  They  would  not  believe  me,  and  I  broke 
through  them  again,  and  with  beating  and  agitated 
heart  ran  through  the  lighted  streets,  until  I  made  sure 
that  either  they  had  not  pursued  me,  or  that  I  had 
distanced  them.  But  both  of  these  notions  may 


248          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

have  been  only  visions  of  my  sick  and  excited 
brain. 

"  Then,  I  was  in  an  omnibus — I  have  no  idea  how  I 
got  there — and  rattling,  rattling  over  the  streets  to — 
I  knew  not  where.  My  head  was  aching  horribly  again, 
and  the  rattle  of  the  vehicle  seemed  to  go  through  it  like 
a  knife  ;  but  I  did  not  mind  that  so  long  as  it  was  carry 
ing  me  further  away  from  Jack.  For,  now  I  had  quite 
settled  in  my  own  mind,  in  spite  of  my  obstinate  denial, 
that  I  had  really  murdered  him,  and  that  his  avenging 
spirit  was  pursuing  me  incessantly. 

"  I  might  have  been  a  whole  night  in  the  omnibus, 
so  interminable  appeared  the  time,  and  my  head  every 
minute  was  growing  worse  and  worse,  when  the  vehicle 
stopped,  and  the  few  passengers  descended — I  among 
them. 

"  There  was  one  man  who  got  out  just  before  me, 
and,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  I  followed  where  he 
led. 

"  He  went  on  in  advance,  through  several  quiet 
streets,  while  I,  with  great  effort,  kept  pretty  close 
behind  him.  The  streets  were  absolutely  deserted  ; 
no  living  soul  to  be  seen  but  our  two  selves ;  he,  my 
unconscious  guide  ;  I,  following,  I  knew  not  whither. 
But  for  the  lighted  windows,  here  and  there,  it  might 
have  been  a  city  of  the  dead. 

"  My  strength  to  follow  was  nearly  gone,  and  still 
my  leader  went  on  apace.  I  could  keep  up  with  him 
no  more,  and  when,  at  last,  he  turned  a  corner  and 
disappeared,  I  stopped. 

"  The  rows  of  houses  on  either  side  began  to  reel  and 
stagger,  as  I  had  fancied  the  Cathedral  had  done  ; 
the  lighted  lamps  danced  up  and  down  like  Will  o* 
the  Wisps,  and  then  began  to  fade.  I  raised  my  eyes 
in  anguish  to  the  stars  in  the  calm  heaven — those 
stars,  which,  on  the  lonely  roadside,  had  appeared  to  me 
as  the  multitudinous  eyes  of  an  ever  watching  God — 
and  commended  my  departing  soul  to  its  Creator. 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  249 

"  There  are  philosophers,  who  have  eaten  largely  of 
the  Fruit  of  the  Tree  of  Knowledge — more,  perhaps, 
than  any  human  being  can  digest — who  tell  us  that  the 
special  interference  of  the  Divine  Author  of  our  being, 
on  behalf  of  one  of  His  creatures,  is,  even  for  the 
Almighty,  an  absolute  impossibility  ;  who  declare  that 
those  eternal  laws  which  Nature  is  compelled  to  follow, 
are  not  to  be  put  aside  or  neglected  even  by  their  Maker. 
That  not  one  of  the  millions  of  prayers  addressed  to 
God  can  be  heeded  or  answered,  and  are  in  vain. 

"  These  doctrines  are  so  terrible  that  the  soul  of  a 
man  in  bodily  or  mental  anguish  instinctively  refuses 
to  believe  in  them,  however  convinced  of  their  verity 
he  may  profess  himself,  when  all  goes  well  with  him. 
As  naturally  as  the  child,  understanding  nothing  of  a 
mother's  love,  turns  to  that  mother  in  pain  or  suffering, 
for  comfort  or  healing  ;  so  the  grown-up  child  turns  to 
its  Father. 

"  Would  the  instinct  be  so  universal  if  it  were  founded 
on  a  lie  ?  I  cannot  believe  it.  I  am  sure  that  in  that 
last  extremity,  when  no  man  was  near  to  help  me,  God 
heard  my  unspoken  cry  for  succour,  and  upheld  me  with 
His  Gracious  Hand. 

"  For,  at  that  moment,  when  I  had  given  up  the 
unavailing  struggle  to  save  myself  and  save  Jack,  and 
was  perforce  succumbing  to  my  terrible  fate,  my  eyes, 
nearly  closing,  were  directed  to  a  placard  in  a  window 
near  at  hand,  where  I  read  the  words  quite  plainly, 
although  everything  else  was  dim  before  my  fading 
vision  :  '  Lodgings  for  a  single  gentleman.' 

"  This  was  my  haven — my  shelter  from  the  raging 
storm.  The  Hand  of  God  was  directing  me,  and  I 
followed  where  He  showed  the  way — followed  trustingly 
though  blindly. 

"  I  climbed  the  steps,  rang  the  bell,  and  made  appli 
cation  for  the  lodgings.  A  woman  had  opened  the  door 
in  answer  to  my  summons.  I  do  not  know  what  I  said 
to  her,  or  how  I  presented  my  case.  The  only  sense  or 


250         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

wish  left  me  was  to  hide  and  rest ;  I  either  never 
thought  about  being  ill,  or  must  have  fancied,  that  in 
seclusion  and  quiet,  I  should  speedily  recover.  I 
remember  seeing,  or  imagining,  a  look  of  indecision  in 
her  face — no  wonder — and  I  pulled  out  my  purse  to 
show  that  I  could  pay.  I  had  been  saving  up  money 
to  buy  a  fine  present  for  Rosa,  that  last  time  I  should 
see  her  before  our  wedding  day,  and  had  money  in  notes 
and  gold.  I  remember  this  ;  and  that,  all  of  a  sudden, 
the  woman  and  the  furniture  swayed  to  and  fro,  as  the 
houses  in  the  street  had  done ;  I  put  out  my  arms  to 
save  her,  and  after  that  I  remember  nothing  more. 

"  Nothing  more  in  reality,  although  the  visions — 
the  awful  visions — that  succeeded  in  rapid  and  bewilder 
ing  succession,  were  as  real  to  me  as  what  I  have  told 
above ;  and  I  should  never  have  been  able  to  draw 
the  line — an  uncertain  one  always — between  fact  and 
fancy,  but  with  the  help  of  the  noble  woman  who  saved 
me. 

* '  I  had  found  my  haven !  Through  weeks  of  sickness, 
this  woman  sat  by  my  bedside,  nursing  me — the 
stranger,  whose  former  life,  for  what  she  knew,  might 
have  been  deeply  stained  with  sin,  as  if  I  were  her 
brother.  Through  the  labyrinth  of  contending  fancies, 
when,  Heaven  knows,  what  horrors  I  may  have  revealed! 
she  guided  me,  and  tended  me,  back  to  life  and  reason. 

"  Poor  herself,  with  daily  necessity  to  labour  for  daily 
bread,  she  plied  her  busy  needle  night  and  day,  watching 
by  my  bedside.  Sickly,  weak  and  delicate,  she  per 
formed  the  labours  of  a  giantess,  and  never  gave  way 
until  success  crowned  her  labours,  and  the  sick  man  was 
rescued. 

"  The  first  object  my  conscious  eyes  rested  on  was  her 
gentle  figure ;  the  first  sound  which  I  was  capable  of 
connecting  with  a  cause,  was  that  of  the  never-flagging 
needle  ;  and  the  first  welcome  back  to  life  shone  out  of 
her  earnest,  softly-beaming  grey  eyes.  Heaven  bless 
and  reward  her ! 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  251 

"  I  was  lying  in  a  small  room,  scantily  furnished  with 
absolute  necessaries,  but  clean  and  exquisitely  neat. 
On  one  side  of  my  bed,  daintily  covered  with  a  white 
counterpane,  stood  upon  a  table  a  little  vase  of  spring 
violets,  scenting  the  room  with  their  fragrant  breath  ; 
on  the  other  sat  my  ministering  angel,  her  wonderful 
eyes,  full  of  glad  tears,  fixed  upon  me. 

"  I  felt  so  peaceful  and  so  tranquil ;  weak  and  trust 
ful  as  a  baby,  who  troubles  itself  not  one  whit  as  to 
what  is  to  become  of  it,  but  leaves  every  care  to  the 
never-failing  love  surrounding  it.  I  had  never  known 
my  mother,  who  had  died  when  I  was  born,  but  I  could 
have  imagined  that  the  loving  eyes  were  hers,  and  that 
she  had  come  down  from  heaven  to  guard  her  orphan 
boy. 

"  I  regained  my  strength  very,  very  slowly,  in  spite 
of  the  most  careful  nursing.  The  shock  to  the  consti 
tution — so  the  doctor  said — had  been  too  great  to  admit 
of  rapid  convalescence.  Also,  with  returning  strength 
of  body  came  intolerable  anguish  of  soul.  I  had  been 
simply  happy  to  live  at  first,  without  caring  why. 

"  Now  I  remembered  that  I  had  nothing  to  live  for, 
and  no  means  of  living,  and  wished  that  I  had  died. 
I  dare  say  this  inward  conflict  retarded  my  recovery. 
But  Nature  and  a  good  constitution  were  not  to  be 
foiled.  I  was  doomed  to  live,  as  I  said  to  myself 
bitterly,  and  now  that  I  had  saved  Jack,  it  would  be 
far  better  if  I  died. 

"  But  there  was  a  powerful  reason  why  I  dared  not 
wilfully  retard  my  progress  towards  health,  and  that 
was  the  necessity  of  being  in  a  condition  to  provide  for 
myself  the  means  of  sustenance,  little  as  I  cared  to  live. 

"  I  thought  about  that  late  enough,  more  shame  for 
me  !  But  when  it  occurred  to  me,  and  I  sought  for 
information  from  my  gentle  nurse,  her  evasive  answers 
showed  me  the  truth  ;  and  I  at  length  extracted  from 
her  unwilling  lips  the  confession  that  my  money  was 
nearly  exhausted.  Not  that  that  would  have  made 


252          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

any  difference  to  her — this  good  Samaritan.  She 
would  have  worked  for  me  and  never  let  me  know  it ; 
but  there  was  another  person  in  the  house — her  mother 
and  the  mistress  of  it — who  had  been  unfavourable  to 
the  keeping  me  from  the  first,  and  who  now  gave  me 
pretty  plain  intimation  that  it  was  time  for  me  to  go. 

"  I  tried  to  get  work,  therefore — work  which  my 
previous  education  might  have  fitted  me  for  (it  was 
humiliating  to  feel,  now  that  I  had  to  bring  my  fancied 
accomplishments  into  the  market,  how  little  they 
were  worth,  and  how  very  small  a  price  would  be  paid 
for  them),  and  I  hunted  up  every  likely  and  unlikely 
advertisement  for  a  worker  (how  few  they  were,  com 
pared  to  the  number  of  competitors  for  them),  and 
traversed  the  whole  wide  city — North,  South,  East  and 
West — to  answer  them.  Alas  !  without  result,  for 
if  even  the  work  were  so  simple  as  to  leave  no  doubt 
of  my  ability  to  perform  it,  one  thing  always  failed 
me  :  testimonials.  Everything  satisfactory  up  to  this 
point,  and  my  heart  beating  high  with  hope,  the  dreaded 
question  would  be  the  damper  to  extinguish  it  again  : 
'  To  whom  can  you  refer  for  a  character  ?  '  And  then 
the  inevitable  look  of  profound  astonishment  at  the 
unmitigated  impudence  which  could  presume  to  hope  to 
do  without  it. 

"  Then  it  was,  sir,  that  I  lighted  upon  your  adver 
tisement.  Despair  was  gnawing  at  my  vitals,  and  I 
had  almost  abandoned  hope,  or  I  should  have  put  it 
aside  without  a  moment's  thought.  But,  standing 
thus  between  two  fires — the  possible  chance  of  your 
recognising  me,  and  the  certainty  of  want — I  dared  to 
contemplate  the  possibility  of  entering  your  service, 
and  yet  effectually  blinding  you  as  to  who  I  really  was. 
If  I  [should  be  successful  in  my  application,  and  you 
should  be  willing  to  employ  me,  I  could  always  take  to 
flight  again  on  the  least  hint  of  suspicion  on  your  part. 

"  If,  on  the  other  hand,  I  could  disguise  myself 
sufficiently  to  mislead  you,  then  I  should  probably  be 


A   LONG   MANUSCRIPT  253 

as  secure  in  your  office,  from  accidental  exposure,  as 
anywhere  else.  I  little  knew  to  what  it  would  lead  me, 
and  what  it  would  cost  me,  or  I  think  I  would  rather 
have  laid  myself  down  on  the  roadside  to  perish. 

"  Not  that  you  ever  suspected  me.  My  long  illness  ; 
the  terrible  shock  to  my  system  ;  last,  though  not 
least,  the  hopeless  search  for  work,  had  done  their 
cruel  business  effectually  enough,  and  rendered  disguise 
almost  superfluous. 

"  I  dyed  my  hair  and  beard  ;  the  fresh  healthy  colour 
of  my  face  had  faded  to  a  deadly  pallor,  and  I  covered 
my  eyes  with  a  pair  of  blue  spectacles.  I  had  even 
practised  a  different  tone  of  voice  and  manner  of 
speaking,  till  I  grew  absolutely  doubtful  sometimes 
myself  if  I  really  ever  had  been  Edwin  Drood. 

"  You  know  the  result,  sir.  I  have  little  further  to 
add,  except  that  in  my  new  position,  the  frequent  and 
unavoidable  contact  in  your  office  with  yourself  and 
others  whom  I  had  known  and  loved  in  my  former  life, 
and  whom  I  neither  dared  to  love  or  know  now,  caused 
me  such  poignant  suffering  as  almost  to  unsettle  my  in 
tellect  ;  and  when  I  learned,  from  conversation  between 
you  and  others,  that  my  old  rival,  young  Landless,  had 
been  accused  of  my  murder,  and  that  my  uncle  was  the 
chief  mover  in  the  accusation,  and  was  remorselessly 
seeking  (or  inventing)  new  proofs  to  hunt  him  down, 
and  noted  the  suffering  which  this  infamous  accusation 
caused  him — the  innocent — I  was  torn  with  an  agony 
of  conflict  as  to  what  I  ought  to  do.  Ought  I  to  deliver 
up  Jack  ?  Ought  I  anonymously  to  warn  him  ? 

"  This  anguish  of  mind,  united  to  the  anguish  of 
being  cut  off  from  all  near  and  dear  to  me,  drove  me  to 
the  verge  of  self-destruction.  I  have  stood  upon  the 
brink  of  the  river,  thinking  it  was  whispering  to  me  to 
come  to  its  bosom,  and  rest  there  from  the  toil  of  the 
battle.  But  that  God,  long-suffering  and  full  of  tender 
mercies,  once  more  graciously  interfered  to  save  me 
from  this  most  fatal  crime,  I  should  never  have  written 


254         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

these  lines,  and  never  been  able  to  save  my  uncle  after 
all. 

"  I  resolved,  finally,  to  watch  my  miserable  uncle 
closely,  to  interfere,  if  absolutely  necessary,  to  save 
Rosa  from  the  terrible  fate  of  being  united  to  him,  and 
to  save  poor  Neville  from  a  further  accusation.  Other 
wise  I  would  remain,  all  my  life,  lost  and  dead.  Robert 
Brandis's  chances  of  happiness  in  the  world,  poor  as 
they  were,  were  greater,  after  all,  than  Edwin  Brood's  ; 
and  I  could  not — could  not  resolve  to  give  up  my  uncle, 
once  so  dearly  loved,  to  the  punishment  of  his  crime. 

"  Now  the  case  is  altered  ;  now,  the  crime  has  been 
brought  home  to  him  without  my  agency ;  and  I  only 
seek,  before  leaving  England,  for  ever  probably,  to 
prove  to  the  world,  with  your  assistance,  now  that  you 
are  in  possession  of  the  details  of  my  escape,  and  proofs 
of  the  verity  of  my  words,  that  Jack  cannot  have 
murdered  me,  because  I  am  alive. 

"  EDWIN  DROOD." 


CHAPTER    XIX 

CODDLER  AND   HIS   MISSION 

THE  Revd.  Septimus,  laying  down  the  manuscript, 
uttered  a  deep  sigh  of  conviction  and  relief,  loudly 
echoed  by  Mr.  Grewgious,  who,  from  eager  interest  in  the 
story,  and  anxiety  not  to  lose  one  syllable  of  it,  had 
hardly  ventured  to  breathe  during  its  perusal. 

"  Who  could  have  foreseen  it  ? "  enquired  the 
Collector  of  Rents,  appealing  to  the  ceiling. 

"  Who,  indeed  ?  "  said  Mr.  Crisparkle,  appealing  to 
the  window  curtains. 

"  I  shall  never  forgive  myself  !  "  said  Mr.  Grewgious, 
smiting  himself  anew  upon  the  breast. 

"  Nor  I,  either/'  said  Mr.  Crisparkle,  following  his 
example. 

"Lord  love  us!"  broke  out  Mr.  Grewgious  again, 
in  his  agitation. 

"  May  He  ever  do  so,"  answered  the  clergyman. 

They  were  interrupted  at  this  point  by  a  rap  at  the 
door,  followed  by  the  appearance  of  the  housemaid, 
who  announced  a  gentleman,  "  leastways  one  of  the 
gaolers  from  the  prison." 

It  was  the  gaoler  who  had  conducted  Mr.  Crisparkle 
to  the  cell  of  John  Jasper,  on  the  occasion  of  his  visit 
there,  and  who,  now  entering,  saluted  the  clergyman 
respectfully,  but  at  the  same  time  with  the  easy  manner 
of  an  old  acquaintance.  His  face  was  decently  mourn 
ful,  like  the  face  of  one  who  bringeth  evil  tidings,  yet 
elated,  too.  After  working  his  auditors  into  a  fever  by 
the  circumlocution  of  his  opening  remarks,  and  at 
last  being  brought  sharply  to  the  point,  he  proceeded  : 

255 


256         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  It  was  damp  and  chilly,  this  morning,  as  you  are  no 
doubt  aweer  on,  gentlemen,  and  must  have  rained  all 
night,  for  the  water  stood  in  little  pools  still  in  the 
courtyard.  I  never  had  so  much  trouble  to  open  the 
door  of  his  cell,  as  I  had  then.  I  was  afraid  the  lock 
was  hampered,  and  was  forced  to  put  down  my  break 
fast-tray  to  turn  the  key.  When  I  got  in,  I  could  see 
nothing  at  all,  at  first ;  but,  gradually,  by  the  light 
shining  in  from  the  passage,  through  the  door  and  the 
grating  above  the  door,  I  could  make  him  out,  crouching 
in  a  corner. 

"  '  Good  morning/  I  said,  cheerfully.  I'm  always 
cheerful  with  the  prisoners,  when  they  behaves  them 
selves  ;  when  they  don't,  I  downs  upon  'em  wiolent, 
and  that  soon  settles  their  hash.  It  ain't  no  effort  to 
me  to  be  cheerful.  Many  o'  my  mates  is  a'most  as 
low  and  gloomy  as  the  prisoners  themselves  ;  they  says 
the  sight  on  'em  makes  'em  dumpy,  and  the  prison 
hatmosphere  preys  upon  their  sperrits.  That's  curious, 
ain't  it  ?  but  man's  a  riddle,  never  yet  solved,  gentle 
men.  '  Good  morning/  says  I.  Then  I  stopped, 
surprised,  for  notwithstanding  the  cheerfulness  of  my 
manner  and  the  inspirin'  natur'  of  my  words,  he  made 
no  answer. 

"  *  Sulky/  says  I,  pretendin'  not  to  mind,  though  all 
the  while  I  felt  oncommon  queer,  for  he  crouched  there 
so  still,  and  there  was  a  nasty,  sickenin'  scent  about  the 
place  which  neither  the  coffee  nor  the  rasher  could  quite 
get  the  better  on.  And  there  was  a  creepin'  in  the 
small  of  my  back,  gentlemen,  that  meant  something 
onpleasant,  though  what,  I  couldn't  tell. 

"  I  stooped  down  to  give  the  prisoner  a  shake  and 
rouse  him  up,  for  I  thought  he  must  be  dozing  in  the 
corner :  he  was  half-sitting,  half-lying,  with  his  arms 
extended  and  his  hands  clasped,  and  his  head  was 
sunk  low  upon  his  breast.  Then  I  drew  back  the  hand 
which  I  had  stretched  out  to  touch  him,  and  cried  out 
loud,  for  he  was  wet,  too,  though  not  with  water,  and 


CODDLER   AND   HIS   MISSION          257 

the  pool  in  which  I  was  standing,  gentlemen,  was 
blood." 

"  Blood  ?  " 

Both  listeners  had  echoed  the  word  simultaneously. 
Mr.  Crisparkle  was  leaning  forward  with  wide  open, 
terrified  eyes  upon  the  speaker.  Mr.  Grewgious  had 
covered  his  with  his  trembling  hands.  The  keeper 
uttered  a  sigh  for  decency's  sake,  but  returned  Mr. 
Crisparkle's  gaze  with  a  look  of  heartfelt  satisfaction 
as  to  the  state  to  which  he  had  reduced  them,  and  which 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  disguise. 

"  Blood,  gentlemen !  And  what's  more,  human 
blood,  gentlemen.  Thickening  a' ready  and  sickening, 
too,  gentlemen.  I  upped  and  ran  to  the  door  in  a 
winkin',  though  I  was  all  of  a  tremble.  There  was  one 
o'  my  mates  coming  down  the  passage.  I  called  him  in, 
and  together  we  examined  the  body.  He  was  dead 
and  cold.  For  the  second  time  he'd  been  and  com 
mitted  suicide,  and  this  time  no  power  on  airth  couldn't 
bring  him  back  to  life  again.  We  found  the  bit  of 
broken  plate,  lying  beside  him,  with  which  he  had 
cut  open  a  wein  at  his  wrist,  and  so  bled  to  death, 
gentlemen." 


CHAPTER    XX 

EDWIN   AND   ROSA 

IT  had  been  necessary,  of  course,  to  acquaint  Rosa 
with  the  fact  of  Edwin  Brood's  re-appearance,  and  also 
of  the  death,  in  the  prison,  of  his  and  her  most  cruel 
enemy  ;  and  although  these  communications  had  been 
made  with  the  tenderest  care  and  forethought  for  her 
condition,  the  startling  intelligence  had  so  affected  her, 
that  a  relapse,  sufficiently  severe  to  re-awaken  the 
liveliest  fears,  had  been  the  immediate  result.  She 
had  earnestly  asked  to  see  the  recovered  lover  of  her 
childish  days,  whose  supposed  death  she  had  so  deeply 
and  sincerely  mourned,  but  the  doctor  had  peremp 
torily  refused  assent  until  she  should  be  better,  and  her 
nerves  stronger  to  support  the  agitation  of  the  interview. 
Thus  some  weeks  had  elapsed,  during  which  Edwin's 
claims  had  been  legally  and  undoubtedly  established, 
the  dead  body  of  the  suicide  committed  to  dust, 
and  popular  excitement  lulled  again,  before  the  two, 
separated  by  so  strange  a  destiny,  and  brought 
together  again  by  a  destiny  stranger  still,  met  face 
to  face. 

Rosa,  from  whose  pale  cheeks  the  faint  roses,  which 
returning  health  had  brought  there  some  weeks  before, 
had  again  taken  their  departure,  was  sitting,  carefully 
wrapped  up,  in  a  low  rocking-chair  by  a  blazing  fire, 
when  the  grave,  hollow-eyed,  bearded  young  man, 
whom  henceforth  she  must  receive  as  Edwin  Drood, 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Grewgious  and  Mr.  Crisparkle, 
came  in  and  stood  before  her. 

They  had  told  her  that  she  would  fail  to  recognise 
258 


EDWIN    AND   ROSA  259 

him,  as  others  had  done.  They  had  gently,  but  firmly, 
prepared  her  for  the  startling  change  which  illness  and 
mental  agony  had  wrought  in  him.  They  had  reminded 
her  of  the  ravages  which  a  terrible  storm  may  work  in 
a  few  short  hours,  and  had  told  her  not  to  forget  that  he 
had  been  struggling  with  the  storm  for  one  long  year. 

But  they  were  wrong,  wrong.  She  knew  him — 
would  have  known  him  anywhere,  with  the  quick, 
superior  instinct  of  a  true  woman,  who  does  not 
wait  to  calculate  or  prove,  but  simply  feels.  It  was 
he,  and  not  she,  who  was  startled  and  alarmed.  Was 
that  puny,  pale  little  creature  in  the  low  chair,  the 
blooming  girl  whom  he  had  left  ?  He  drew  back, 
startled  and  inexpressibly  shocked,  burying  his  face 
in  his  hands. 

"  Eddy,  Eddy !  "  she  cried,  pathetically,  stretching 
out  her  wasted  hands.  "  Come  to  me,  brother. 
Nearer,  nearer  !  Let  me  touch  you,  brother.  Let  me 
be  quite  certain  that  I  have  you  once  more." 

The  same  sweet,  familiar  voice !  More  soft  and 
womanly  than  of  yore,  and  without  a  shadow  of  the 
former  petulance  ;  yet  with  the  old  musical  ring  in 
the  tone  of  it.  He  came  forward,  vainly  endeavouring 
to  master  the  emotion  which  the  sight  of  and  the 
change  in  her  awakened,  sank  upon  his  knees,  and 
laid  his  head  upon  her  lap. 

There  was  silence  in  the  room,  only  broken  by  the 
low  and  subdued,  yet  plainly  audible,  weeping  of  the 
young  man.  Mr.  Crisparkle  and  Mr.  Grewgious  had 
turned  aside  to  hide  their  starting  tears  from  one 
another,  with  that  strange  shyness  which  men  exhibit 
on  giving  way  to  an  emotion  which  only  does  them 
honour.  And  bright  drops  from  Rosa's  eyes  were 
falling  thick  upon  the  young  man's  shining  hair.  When 
the  girl  spoke  again,  and  she  was  the  first  to  regain  her 
composure  and  to  do  so,  the  two  elder  gentlemen  quietly 
left  the  room,  and  the  two  alone  together. 

The  young  man  wept  still,  though  more  quietly, 


260          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

the  while  she  tried  to  comfort  him.  The  joy  of  hearing 
her,  and  resting  there ;  the  intense  happiness  of 
knowing  that  her  recognition  of  him  had  been  complete 
and  instantaneous  ;  the  sorrow  of  finding  her  so  sadly 
changed  ;  the  mingled  feeling  of  gladness  and  pain  at 
her  re-assuming,  as  the  natural  one,  the  new  relation 
which  they  had  agreed,  in  their  last  meeting,  to  adopt 
towards  one  another — all  these  things  so  unmanned 
him  that  he  could  form  no  other  wish  than  that  he 
might  kneel  there  for  ever,  at  the  feet  of  the  woman 
he  had  learned  to  love,  too  late. 

"  Eddy,  dear,  look  up  and  let  me  see  you/'  she  said 
at  length,  when  she  had  exhausted  all  her  resources  of 
comfort  for  him,  and  he  still  knelt  motionless. 

He  raised  his  tear-stained  face  instantly.  How 
different  from  the  old  time  when  he  had  been  united  to 
her  by  a  far  nearer  and  dear  tie.  Now  her  slightest 
wish  was  his  law. 

"  Do  my  looks  frighten  you,  Rosa  ?  Am  I  a  terrible 
object  ?  "  he  enquired,  earnestly. 

She  laughed,  almost  merrily — 

"  You  are  grown  into  a  man,  Eddy,  as  I  am  grown 
into  a  woman,  and  I  don't  think  you  are  a  bit  the  worse 
for  the  change  ;  only  you  are  too  grave  and  sad.  But 
by-and-by  you  will  get  the  better  of  that,  and  it's  not 
your  fault,  poor  boy  !  " 

The  sweet  naturalness  of  her  manner,  which  seemed 
to  bridge  over  the  gulf  that  had  yawned  between  them, 
and  to  make  a  way  for  his  clumsier  man's  feet  to  pass 
to  her,  was  inexpressibly  loving  and  beautiful.  All 
the  awkwardness  and  strangeness  of  their  position 
towards  one  another  melted  away  before  its  influence, 
like  morning  mist  before  the  sun.  Yet  there  was  no 
idea  of  encouragement  in  it  to  any  possible  renewal 
of  the  rent  bonds  between  them.  Though  she  had  torn 
down  one  barrier,  which  might  have  kept  them  strangers 
all  the  rest  of  their  lives,  her  delicate  womanly  instinct 
had  instantly  erected  another,  finer,  subtler,  but  not  a 


EDWIN   AND    ROSA  261 

whit  less  tough.     She  was  his  warmly  interested  friend 
— his  loving  and  affectionate  sister  ;    nothing  more. 

"  Rosa,  darling  sister,  can  you  really  forgive  me  my 
share  in  your  sufferings  ?  forgive  me  the  relationship 
with  your  persecutor  ?  " 

"  Was  that  unhappy  man  not  yours,  also,  Eddy  ? 
We  have  both  suffered — you,  ten  thousand  times  more 
than  I — both  innocently,  and  both,  perhaps,  in  part 
justly.  Let  us  forgive  him,  Eddy.  Let  us  remember 
that  his  power  to  injure  us  is  gone,  and  that  we  have 
no  right  to  judge  him  any  more,  for  he  has  been  judged 
by  God.  And  having  forgiven  him — with  all  our 
hearts,  brother — let  us  strive  to  forget.  For  his  sake, 
and  for  our  own,  let  us  strive  to  forget." 

She  was  right.  He  had  forgiven  all  the  injuries  he 
himself  had  suffered,  long  ago,  and  if  he  still  felt  resent 
ment,  it  was  only  on  her  account.  She  was  right. 
From  that  moment  the  name  of  the  dead  man  was 
not  spoken  between  them.  They  shed  together  a  few 
last  tears  over  his  grave  before  leaving  him  to  his 
Creator. 

"  And  now,  Eddy,  dear,"  began  Rosa,  in  a  sprightlier 
tone,  after  a  short  period  of  reverential  silence,  in  which 
they  had  taken  a  final  farewell  of  the  dead,  "  now, 
Eddy,  dear,  let  us  talk  about  our  plans  for  the  future, 
and  what  we  both  mean  to  do  in  the  life — the  long  life, 
possibly,  for  we  are  both  so  young  still — which  lies 
before  us.  Let  us  begin  with  you,  Eddy,  because  you 
are  far  the  most  important,  you  know.  What  are  you 
going  to  do  ?  " 

Could  she  not  understand  the  yearning  look  in  his 
wistful  eyes,  or  would  she  not  ?  Was  her  usually  keen 
instinct  quite  unaware  of  the  passionate  longing  of  his 
heart  ?  However  that  might  be,  she  made  no  sign, 
and  waited  quietly,  unmoved  (so  he  thought),  for  his 
answer. 

"  Mr.  Grewgious,  Rosa — my  best  friend  and  almost 
father,  whom  I  love  and  reverence  more  than  words 


262          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

can  tell,  and  whom  it  is  my  pride  and  pleasure  to  obey 
— tells  me  I  must  go  to  Egypt,  and  assume  the  place 
and  position  there  which  belong  to  me  by  inheritance, 
and  for  which  I  have  been  educated.  It  seems  a  little 
hard  to  have  to  leave  my  friends  again  so  soon,  after 
my  year  of  cruel  banishment ;  but  he  thinks  it  best, 
and  if  you  advise  it  too,  Rosa,  I  will  go." 

He  had  tried  to  speak  hopefully  and  cheerfully,  but 
the  effort  had  only  made  the  heart's  sadness  which 
rang  through  his  words  more  apparent.  He  hoped, 
perhaps,  that  she  would  try  to  dissuade  him  ;  at  all 
events,  express  some  sympathy  for  him,  perhaps  even 
say  how  sorry  she  would  be  to  lose  him.  But  though 
she  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments,  when  she  spoke 
at  last,  her  voice  was  clear  and  calm. 

*  Yes,  Eddy.  That  will  be  the  best  thing,  certainly. 
There's  nothing  like  earnest,  hearty  work  to  keep  down 
all  sorrowful  thought ;  and  in  a  strange  country,  with 
nothing  to  remind  you  of  old  scenes  and  old  events, 
you  will  soon  outlive  your  troubles,  and  grow  into  a 
bright  and  happy  man  again.  It  may  be  a  sharp 
remedy,  Eddy,  and  need  some  courage  on  your  part, 
but  it  is  a  sure  one." 

"  Then  I  will  go,  Rosa.  The  sooner  the  better.  No 
one  can  be  more  anxious  to  get  rid  of  me  than  I  am  to 
get  rid  of  myself." 

Taking  no  apparent  notice  of  the  bitter  disappoint 
ment  which  had  found  utterance  in  the  last  words,  she 
went  on  in  her  soft,  sweet  voice,  pouring  balm  into  his 
wounds. 

"  And  you  will  not  forget  your  sister  in  England, 
Eddy,"  she  said,  affectionately,  laying  her  small,  white 
hand  gently  on  his  clustering  hair,  "  you  will  write  to 
me  sometimes,  and  tell  me  what  you  are  doing,  and 
how  you  are  getting  on,  and  all  your  triumphs  of 
engineering  skill  in  the  far  country  which  I  used  to 
tease  you  about  when  I  was  a  self-willed  girl,  who  needed 
some  sorrow  to  curb  her  waywardness." 


EDWIN   AND   ROSA  263 

It  was  a  dangerous  thing  to  have  reminded  him  of, 
as  she  read  in  a  moment  in  his  upturned  face  and  eager 
eyes,  and  she  continued  hurriedly — 

"  But  your  sister  is  older  and  wiser  now,  Eddy,  and 
even  if  she  were  not  that  last,  she  promised  never  to 
tease  you  any  more,  if  you  recollect,  and  means  to  keep 
her  word.  So  you  must  make  her  your  confidante, 
and  be  sure  that  she  will  always  feel  a  loving  interest 
in  her  brother,  and  prove  herself  worthy  to  be  trusted  in. 
And  if,  Eddy,  the  time  should  come,  as  it  will,  no  doubt, 
when  (she  hesitated  a  moment,  then  went  on  steadily) 
you  fall  in  love  with  some  sweet  girl,  who  loves 
you  dearly  in  return,  brother,  then  you  must  tell  me 
all  about  it,  and  must  tell  her  of  the  little  sister  whom 
you  left  behind  in  the  old  country,  and  who  will  love 
her,  too,  for  her  dear  brother's  sake." 

His  face,  which  had  been  flushed  from  weeping  and 
excitement,  paled  as  she  spoke,  and  his  eyes  rested  upon 
the  sweet  lips  uttering  his  doom,  with  sadness  un 
speakable,  and  almost  with  reproach.  He  was  going 
passionately  to  repudiate  the  idea  that  he  would  ever 
marry,  and  thus  reveal  a  secret  which  his  conscience 
told  him  it  would  be  base  and  cowardly  to  tell  now  that 
it  was  too  late,  and  which  would,  perhaps,  completely 
alienate  her.  But  he  stopped  in  time. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  so  quietly  as  to  be  barely 
audible,  "  when  I  fall  in  love  and  marry,  I  shall 
certainly  tell  you  of  it."  Then,  with  effort,  "  Now 
that  I  am  settled  and  done  for,  tell  me  what  is  to 
become  of  you  ?  " 

She  breathed  more  freely,  and  a  look  of  anxiety 
which  had  overshadowed  her  face,  brightened  into  a 
smile  of  relief.  She  knew  that  they  had  been  treading 
dangerous  ground,  although  she  herself  had  been  the 
leader  there.  Possibly  she  had  wished  to  avoid  ground 
more  dangerous  still. 

"  It  is  nice  of  you  to  want  to  know,  Eddy,  dear,  and 
I  am  so  glad  to  have  a  kind  listener  to  tell  it  to.  I  have 


264         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

thought  about  it  a  good  deal  lately,  because  I  foresee 
that  I  shall  soon  be  terribly  in  the  way  here,  kind  as  they 
all  are  to  me.  I  sometimes  have  been  so  silly  as  to  cry 
a  little  when  I  was  alone,  and  to  fancy  myself  solitary 
and  uncared  for.  But  it  was  ungrateful  and  wicked 
to  think  it,  for  I  have  so  many  more  kind  friends  than 
I  deserve  ;  and  now  I  have  got  you,  my  brother,  I  am 
quite  content  and  happy." 

She  squeezed  his  hands,  resting  in  hers,  and  smiled  as 
he  gently  touched  hers  with  his  lips. 

"  So  I  have  made  a  little  plan,  Eddy,  which  will  be 
charming ;  and  if  my  guardian  will  consent,  and  I  think 
he  will,  for  he  does  everything — dear,  good  man ! — 
to  please  me,  I  hope  to  carry  it  out.  For,  one  thing  is 
certain,  I  can't  stay  here  much  longer." 

"  Why,  Rosa  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  hope  I  know  what  is  proper  and  what  is 
not,"  she  answered,  laughing  and  blushing,  and  looking 
mischievously  at  him  out  of  her  dancing  eyes.  "  But 
it's  a  secret,  and  I  can't  tell  you,  unless  you  are  clever 
enough  to  guess,  Eddy.  Try." 

"  How  can  I  guess,  Rosa,  without  a  particle  of  clue  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,  Eddy,  you  are  quite  as  stupid  as  you  used 
to  be  !  Oh  !  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  didn't  mean  to  say 
that.  But  confess  that  you  are  a  little  wee  bit  of  a 
goose  after  all.  I  should  have  guessed  it  in  a  minute." 

Had  she  been  talking  about  a  possible  wife  for  him 
in  Egypt  as  a  preparation — a  merciful  preparation — for 
what  she  had  in  store  for  him,  on  her  own  account  ? 
Must  she  leave  the  house  in  Minor  Canon  Corner,  in 
order  to  sacrifice  to  the  proprieties,  before  returning 
thither  as  its  mistress  ?  His  fears,  blinding  him,  as 
unreasonable  fears  always  do,  presented  this  interpre 
tation  of  her  words  as  the  only  one  possible.  He  had 
never  thought  of  Mr.  Crisparkle  as  a  suitor  to  the  girl 
whom  he  had  learned  to  love  in  losing,  until  he  now 
thought  of  him  as  a  successful  one. 

"  Is  Mr.  Crisparkle ?  "  he  asked,  in  very  agony,  as 


EDWIN    AND    ROSA  265 

the  hopes  he  cherished,  in  spite  of  his  ail-but  certainty 
in  their  fallacy,  faded  away  to  nothing. 

"  Charming,  Eddy !  No,  you  are  not  stupid,  but 
the  cleverest  of  boys." 

"  Going  to  be " 

"  De — li — cious !  "  exclaimed  Rosa,  in  an  ecstasy, 
clapping  her  hands,  "  I  have  heard,  somewhere,  that, 
if  women  are  quick,  they  are  shallow,  and  that  men, 
though  slow,  are  deep,  and  it  is  true,  Eddy.  Now,  I 
hope  that  compliment  has  quite  purchased  my  pardon 
for  calling  you  (unintentionally,  I  am  sure)  stupid.  Go 
on,  Eddy,  you  are  as  warm  as  warm  can  be." 

"  Married,  Rosa  ?  " 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  tried  to  dance  across  the 
room  in  her  old  wild  way.  It  was  a  failure  ;  her  feet 
were  not  strong  enough  for  dancing  yet,  but  the  effort 
showed  the  lightness  of  her  heart.  He  caught  her  frail 
figure,  and  replaced  it  in  the  chair.  She  little  knew  how 
sadly. 

"  When  I've  got  my  breath,  Eddy,  I'll  tell  you 
something  more.  In  the  meantime,  guess  who  it  is." 

"  I  can't  guess,  Rosa." 

"  Not  guess,  after  guessing  so  famously.  Well, 
I'll  give  you  a  hint — a  very  broad  one.  It's  an  old 
flame  of  yours,  Eddy — oh,  my  eyes  were  sharp  as  razors, 
and  I  saw — and  the  handsomest  girl  in  Cloisterham." 

"  Then  it  must  be  you,  Rosa."  Yet  his  heart  was 
lighter  already. 

She  laughed ;  such  a  clear,  joyous,  ringing  laugh. 
Mr.  Grewgious  heard  it  in  the  room  below,  where  he 
was  waiting,  and  he  laughed,  too,  for  very  joy  and 
sympathy.  And  Edwin  Drood's  fears  fled  away  before 
it,  back  to  that  land  of  foolish  fancies  whence  they  came. 

"  Oh,  Eddy,  dear  !  do  you  think  I  am  vain  enough 
to  call  myself  something  that  I  never  was,  even  before 
I  lost  my  beauty,  now  that  I  have  grown  into  a  little 
fright  ?  " 

"  You,  a  fright,  Rosa  ?  " 


266         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

It  was  said  with  such  genuine  surprise,  that  it  was 
worth  a  thousand  asseverations  to  the  contrary  from 
one  better  versed  in  the  art  of  paying  compliments. 

The  girl  laughed  again.  She  had  hardly  laughed 
once  in  that  old,  wilful,  charming  way  since  he  was  lost, 
last  Christmas  Eve. 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,  Eddy,  to  pretend  not  to 
see  it ;  and  I  do  hope,  when  my  hair  is  grown  again, 
that  I  shall  recover  some  portion  of  my  good  looks, 
which  I  was  so  vain  of  once,  and  which  I  have  abused 
so  much  since,  and  yet  which  I  am  so  sorry  to  have  lost 
after  all.  But,  not  to  talk  about  that  any  more,  guess 
who  it  is  Mr.  Crisparkle  is  going  to  marry." 

"  Since  it  is  not  you,  Rosa,  I  do  not  care." 

"  But  you  must  care,  Eddy,  because  you  are  my 
brother,  and  because  I  care  so  much ;  for  she  is  my 
dearest  friend,  and  has  been  my  most  loving  nurse,  and 
I  am  glad  with  all  my  heart  to  know  that  she  will  be  so 
happy,  for  I  love  her  dearly." 

"  Can  it  be ?  " 

"  Yes,  Eddy,  dear,"  she  answered  with  a  smile  and  a 
tear,  laying,  with  her  old  pretty  naturalness,  her  small 
forefinger  upon  his  lips  to  prevent  the  word  hovering 
there  from  escaping  them,  "  but  don't  speak  it  out  loud, 
because  they  don't  know  it  themselves  for  certain  yet, 
though  it's  as  plain  as  plain  can  be ;  and  I  tell  it  to 
you  only  to  prevent  your  cherishing  any  hopes  in  that 
direction,  which  would  cause  you  and  them  needless 
pain." 

What  a  wise  little  thing  she  had  become  !  he  said,  in 
one  short  year  ;  what  a  prudent  and  far-seeing  little 
sister !  But  there  was  no  fear  of  that ;  oh  no  !  no 
fear  of  that. 

His  sad  earnestness  seemed  to  strike  her.  She 
looked  at  him  with  a  quiver,  almost  like  fear,  on  her 
sensitive  lips,  and  a  faint  shadow  on  her  candid  brow. 
But  he  returned  her  gaze  so  quietly,  so  true-heartedly, 
that  she  grew  reassured. 


EDWIN   AND   ROSA  267 

"  I  hope  it  is  no  breach  of  confidence,  Eddy,  to  have 
told  you,"  she  went  on,  after  they  had  sat  thus  a  few 
moments  in  silence,  "  and  yet  it  can't  be,  either,  for 

they  have  never  confided  in  me ;  or  a  breach  of — of . 

Well,  never  mind  what  it  is,  if  it  is  not  wrong  ;  and  I 
do  not  think  it  can  be  that,  for  I  only  meant  to  avoid 
trouble  in  telling  you.  And  besides,  Eddy,  I  know  you 
will  be  discreet,  and  not  betray  me." 

She  might  be  quite,  quite  sure  of  that,  he  said. 

"  I  have  seen  it  coming  on  for  a  long  while,  "  con 
tinued  Rosa,  delighted  with  the  subject,  and  doubly 
delighted,  like  the  majority  of  her  sex  in  possession  of 
such  a  secret,  not  to  be  obliged  to  keep  it  locked  up 
within  her  own  bosom,  but  to  have  found  some  one 
to  whom  she  might  dilate  upon  it,  "  they  were  made  for 
one  another.  She  is  so  grandly  beautiful,  so  majestic, 
Eddy,  that  she  kept  all  gentlemen  at  a  distance,  and 
I  believe,  although  they  couldn't  help  admiring  her, 
they  were  all  afraid  of  her,  though  she  has  the  kindest 
and  noblest  heart  in  the  world  :  but  with  him  she  is 
like  a  little  child ;  so  gentle  and  so  humble,  and  as 
pliable  as  a  bit  of  soft  wax  in  his  hands.  He  is  moulding 
her  into  the  gentlest,  sweetest  and  loveliest  clergyman's 
wife  in  all  England,  and  when  she  is  that,  and  the  last 
touch  has  made  her  quite  perfect  for  the  office,  why, 
then  I  should  be  terribly  in  the  way,  and  that's  the 
reason  I  must  go." 

"  You  in  anybody's  way,  Rosa !  "  He  seemed  to 
think  it  an  impossibility. 

"  Of  course,  Eddy.  And  I'm  thankful  that  I've 
wit  enough  to  see  it,  and  instead  of  waiting  to  be  turned 
out,  have  the  sense  to  take  my  departure,  so  long  as 
I  can  accomplish  it  with  dignity.  And  now,  Eddy, 
before  proceeding  any  further,  there's  one  thing  I  wish 
to  mention  seriously.  I  have  found  you  extremely 
satisfactory,  on  the  whole,  and  am  very,  very  glad  to 
have  my  dear  brother  again  (affectionately),  but  I  see 
the  germs  of  a  fault  in  you,  which  I  never  saw  before, 


268          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

and  I  want  you,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  to  destroy 
them  as  fast  as  possible." 

"  If,"  he  said,  colouring  deeply,  "  if  she  saw  any  fault 
in  him,  painful  or  disagreeable  to  her,  and  she  would 
have  the  kindness  to  tell  him  what  it  was,  he  would  not 
rest  until  he  had  conquered  it.  To  do  so,"  he  added, 
"  should  be  the  chief  object  of  his  life." 

"  There  you  go,  Eddy,"  she  answered,  "  and  that  is 
just  the  very  thing  I  mean.  The  chief  object  of  your 
life  must  not  be  to  please  me.  You  must  find  a  higher 
object  than  that,  brother.  And  to  tell  you  plainly 
what  I  mean  :  I  have  discovered  in  you  a  tendency  to 
pay  compliments,  which  I  fear  will  grow  upon  you.  I 
do  not  mean  to  say,"  she  said,  with  the  air  of  a  con 
noisseur,  "  that  you  have  attained  any  great  proficiency 
in  the  art ;  but  the  wish  to  do  so  is  too  apparent ;  and 
if  you  have  overcome  many  faults  of  your  boyhood, 
and  you  have,  I  am  sure,  this  is  a  newly-acquired  one ; 
for  then,  if  I  remember  right,  it  was  not  a  habit  of 
yours,  rather  the  contrary." 

If  she  could  have  known  how  her  words  were  torturing 
him.  If  she  could  have  known  how  the  remembrance 
of  his  careless  and  indifferent  behaviour  towards  her  in 
the  old  time  was  a  daily  agony  for  him  now. 

"  And,"  she  went  on,  quite  unconscious  of  the  pain 
she  was  inflicting,  "  brothers  never  pay  compliments. 
I  know  that,  because  all  the  girls  in  the  Nuns'  House, 
who  had  any,  said  so.  The  principal  use  of  brothers, 
Miss  Williams  used  to  say,  was,  that  even  truer  than 
your  own  looking-glass  they  were  sure  to  tell  you,  if 
you  were  not  looking  so  fresh  and  bright  as  usual." 

He  would  endeavour  not  to  offend  in  that  way  again, 
although  he  had  not  been  aware  of  having  done  so. 
And  now  (to  change  the  conversation)  would  she  not 
tell  him  where  she  was  going  ? 

"  Certainty,  Eddy,  though  I  had  nearly  forgotten  it. 
I  mean,  if  he  will  have  me,  to  go  and  live  with  my 
guardian.  He  is  such  a  good,  good  man,  and  I  love 


EDWIN   AND   ROSA  269 

him  dearly,  dearly  ;  and  he  is  so  lonely  in  Staple  Inn 
and  those  dull  old  gloomy  chambers ;  so,  one  day, 
when  I  was  thinking  about  him,  and  about  myself,  and 
feeling — I  am  ashamed  to  say  it  again,  because  it  is  so 
ungrateful  of  me — almost  as  if  I  were  as  uncared-for 
and  solitary  as  he,  this  plan  came  into  my  head,  and  I 
said  to  myself :  one  and  one  make  two,  and  two  lonely 
ones  together  are  not  lonely  any  more  ;  and  I  can  make 
him  happy,  and  he  me." 

"  Dear,  generous  Rosa  !  " 

"  Eddy,  I  hope  that's  not  a — you  know  what,  but 
really  meant,  and  therefore  I  will  pass  it  over,  and 
thank  you,  too,  for  what  is  kindly  intended,  though 
undeserved,  I  am  sure.  Therefore,  when  he  came  to 
see  me,  so  glad  to  find  me  better,  and  took  me  in  his 
arms,  calling  me  his  dear  child !  his  pretty,  blessed 
child  !  and  kissed  me,  till  I  felt  his  tears — an  old  man's 
tears,  Eddy — on  my  cheek,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  be 
his  child  in  reality,  to  devote  my  life  to  cheering  his ; 
and  in  making  him  happy,  I  know  I  shall  be  still 
happier  myself." 

Although  the  childish  beauty — the  fresh  budding 
beauty  of  the  growing  girl — had  faded,  perhaps  never 
to  return,  there  was  a  far  higher  beauty  shining  through 
her  radiant  eyes,  and  refining  and  idealizing  every 
feature  of  her  earnest  face. 

If  it  had  been  possible  for  him,  he  thought,  to  love 
her  better,  he  must  have  done  so  now,  when  he  felt, 
as  he  had  never  felt  before,  that  the  beautiful  body  only 
held  a  soul  more  lovely  still,  which  could  never  fade  or 
perish. 

"  I  have  a  little  money  of  my  own,  Eddy,  so  that  I 
need  not  be  a  burden  to  him  in  that  way ;  and  we 
might  take  a  nice  little  cosy  house  in  some  pretty 
neighbourhood,  not  too  far  from  Staple  Inn ;  and  then 
some  nice  old  lady  must  come  and  live  with  us,  who  will 
have  nothing  to  do  but  doze  comfortably  by  the  fire, 
when  he  is  at  home,  and  be  company  for  me  when  he  is 


270         A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

at  his  office ;  and  when  he  comes  home  tired,  Eddy, 
and  fagged  from  his  day's  work  perhaps,  his  daughter 
will  be  standing  upon  the  doorstep  to  receive  him  ;  to 
take  nice  walks  with  him  in  the  summer  evenings  ;  to 
sing  and  play  for  him  in  the  winter  ones  ;  to  make  him 
forget  dull  Staple  Inn  and  all  its  account  books  and 
worrying  clerks  (forgive  me,  Eddy,  I  don't  mean  you), 
and  wish  the  evenings  were  twice,  three  times  as  long 
as  they  are.  Isn't  that  a  charming  prospect,  brother  ?  " 

Oh,  Heaven !  Such  a  charming  prospect !  Oh, 
God,  such  a  glimpse  of  Paradise,  before  the  door  is  shut 
for  ever  !  Oh,  what  a  reward  to  have  been  able  to  look 
forward  to,  if  God  had  willed  it,  at  the  end  of  a  long 
life's  work  !  Such  were  his  thoughts,  as  he  bowed  his 
head  to  hide  the  starting  tears  he  dared  not  let  her  see. 

"  Thus  the  happy  days  will  flow  on,  Eddy  ;  calm 
and  peaceful,  if  God  permits,  and  varied  from  too 
severe  a  sameness  by  the  frequent  receipt  of  letters 
from  my  brother  in  Egypt,  who  will  not  forget  his 
sister,  I  know.  And  though  Time  will  almost  seem  to 
stand  still  with  my  guardian,  his  loving  daughter  will 
grow,  little  by  little,  into  an  old  maid — not  a  cankering, 
backbiting  old  maid,  Eddy,  I  hope,  but  a  kind-hearted, 
benevolent  and  happy  one ;  and  as  busy  a  little  old 
maid,  Eddy,  as  any  under  the  sun." 

She  felt  long  before  he  could  utter  it,  the  almost 
indignant  negation  to  this  last  part  of  her  plans,  upon 
his  lips,  and  held  up  her  small  hand  to  prevent  his  giving 
it  utterance. 

"  Don't  interrupt  me,  Eddy,  please,  for  I've  nearly 
finished.  There  are  sure  to  be  some  nice  little  children 
somewhere  (and  I'm  going  to  be  an  old  maid  very  fond 
of  children)  who  are  poor,  and  whom  I  can  sew  for, 
and  make  warm  clothes  for,  when  winter  comes  ;  and 
poor  old  women,  too,  with  asthma  or  rheumatism,  who 
will  let  me  visit  them  and  bring  them  little  comforts, 
such  as  broth,  or  jellies,  which  I  will  learn  to  make 
from  the  clever  old  lady  who  is  going  to  live  with  us. 


EDWIN   AND    ROSA  271 

And  then  I  think  they  may  learn  to  love  me,  Eddy ; 
for  love  is  something  I  do  covet,  and  cannot  do  with 
out." 

Love  her  !     Who  could  help  it  ?     One  who  lavished 
love  on  others  so  freely  was  sure  of  a  return. 

"  And  when  my  brother  from  Egypt  comes  to  visit 
us — bringing  a  dear  little  wife — or,  no,  a  big  one :  I 
haven't  forgotten  your  partiality  for  big  women,  with 
big  noses,  Eddy  (whimsically,  and  with  a  half-return  of 
the  old  propensity  to  tease  him) — and,  perhaps,  some 
dear  little  children,  whom  I  shall  love  so  much  that 
they  won't  be  able  to  help  loving  their  aunty  in  return 
(and  one  of  them  must  be  my  namesake,  Eddy),  then 
I  shall  be  as  happy  a  little  old  maid  as  can  be.  There 
won't  be  a  little  old  maid  in  all  England  so  happy  as  I." 
If  she  could  have  known,  that  each  loving  word  fell 
upon  his  heart  like  a  coal  of  fire,  how  it  would  have 
wrung  hers.  If  she  could  but  have  known  ! 

He  sat  silent,  with  his  sad  eyes  upon  her.  She 
thought  he  was  pitying  her  for  a  fate  which  not  all  her 
bright  hopefulness  could  induce  him  to  concur  in,  as  a 
suitable  or  natural  one  for  her ;  and  his  quiet  com 
passion  forced  a  tear  into  her  eye. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  say,  Eddy,"  she  went  on,  more 
gravely,  "  that  it's  quite  as  brilliant  or  rainbow-tinted 
a  life  as  I  fancied  mine  was  going  to  be  when  I  was  a 
babyish,  ignorant  girl  in  the  Nuns'  House.  But  my 
air-castles  have  melted  away,  one  by  one,  and  I'm  too 
old  and  sensible  now  to  build  up  any  more  such  unsub 
stantial  edifices.  And  now,  Eddy  dear,  I  hear  Mr. 
Grewgious  on  the  stairs,  and  I  remember  the  doctor  told 
me  on  no  account  to  talk  too  much,  or  too  long,  and  I've 
been  chattering  away  all  the  time  like  a  magpie.  I'm 
afraid  I  must  send  you  away  for  the  present,  if  I  am 
ever  to  get  permission  to  see  you  again." 
He  rose  immediately,  holding  out  his  hand. 
Rosa,  with  an  innocent  and  unconscious  impulse, 
half-raised  her  sweet  face  to  his,  as  if  she  expected, 


272         A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

and  would  have  permitted,  the  accustomed  caress, 
natural  to  the  new  and  near  relationship  which  they  had 
adopted — still  more  natural  to  the  old  one  they  had 
abandoned,  nearer  still — that  accustomed  caress,  which 
he  had  given  and  received  so  indifferently  and  carelessly 
in  the  old  time,  and  which  he  would  have  given  the 
world  to  have  dared  to  accept  now. 

If  she  could  have  known — if  she  could  have  known, 
how  gladly  he  would  have  given  up  every  other  hope 
in  life  to  have  dared  to  accept  the  priceless  boon  which 
she  had  offered  him — all  unconscious  of  its  worth.  If 
she  could  have  known,  that  only  the  certainty  of 
betraying  himself,  if  his  lips  met  hers,  had  made  him 
turn  away  from  a  delight,  sweeter  to  him  far  than 
anything  in  earth  or  heaven,  and  which,  having  once 
tasted,  he  must  have  striven  to  win  for  ever,  or  died 
in  the  attempt. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

THE   PASSING  OF  NEVILLE 

THE  good  people  of  Cloisterham,  though  a  little  less 
wide-awake  than  was  desirable,  and  a  good  bit  behind 
hand  in  certain  new-fangled  ways  which  circulated 
freely  in  the  world  without  them,  particularly  in  that 
great  and  mighty  city  (mighty  for  evil  as  well  as  good) 
removed  so  short  a  distance  as  to  be  almost  a  next-door 
neighbour,  were  not  a  particle  less  kindly  at  heart  than 
other  folks,  who  made  more  noise  in  the  world  than  they, 
surrounded  by  so  many  evidences  of  sleep  and  slow 
decay,  were  ever  likely  to  do,  in  the  drowsy  city  of 
their  birth  ;  and  a  Cloisterham  conscience,  once  roused, 
was  rather  more  restive  than  an  average  conscience  on 
the  wrhole,  and  capable  of  inflicting  pricks  in  no  way 
to  be  disregarded.  Thus,  the  honest  inhabitants  of  this 
ancient  city,  who  had  until  now  strongly  sympathised 
with  John  Jasper,  no  sooner  really  comprehended  (a 
slow  process,  for  its  worst  enemy  couldn't  accuse  Clois 
terham  of  having  a  quick  comprehension)  that  they  had 
been  upon  a  wrong  tack,  than  they  veered  round  com 
pletely  to  the  other  side  ;  and,  in  the  enthusiasm  for 
the  falsely  accused  boy,  and  the  furious  indignation 
against  his  accuser,  even  the  nephew,  Edwin  Drood, 
who  had  been  the  greatest  sufferer,  was  neglected,  or 
even  looked  upon  askant,  as  an  instrument,  although 
an  unwilling  one,  in  the  persecution  ;  for  all  eyes  were 
directed  towards  the  hero  of  the  occasion — towards 
poor  Neville.  Every  one  wanted  to  atone  in  some 
measure  for  his  own  share  in  the  persecution,  and  thus 
appease  his  troubled  conscience,  ere  it  was  too  late ; 
T  273 


274          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

for  those  who  had  eyes  to  understand  the  significant 
language  of  his  wasted  form  and  too  brilliant  colour  saw 
in  the  lad's  face  the  unmistakable  signs  of  death.  Alas  ! 
popular  adulation,  or  popular  execration,  were  alike 
to  him  now,  except  for  Helena's  dear  sake.  For,  before 
his  earnest  eyes  turned  towards  a  land  afar  off,  the 
world,  and  the  things  of  the  world,  were  passing  away. 

Mr.  Grewgious  and  Edwin  Drood  had  returned  to 
London,  the  latter  to  make  immediate  preparations 
for  his  voyage  to  Egypt,  and  the  former  to  resume  his 
duties  in  his  neglected  office,  to  try  to  make  up  for  lost 
time,  and  to  advertise  for  another  clerk,  to  enter  upon 
his  work  as  speedily  as  possible.  Rosa  was  quite 
"  out  of  the  sick  list,"  as  she  said,  and  the  roses  in  her 
cheeks  had  grown  bold,  refusing  to  evacuate  their 
newly- won  places  any  more.  She  had  cast  off  the 
invalid,  and  taken  her  old  place  in  the  family  circle, 
which  she  made  musical  with  her  sweet  voice  and  simple 
songs.  But  the  old  doctor  still  came  to  Minor  Canon 
Corner,  and  calves'  foot  jellies  and  chicken  broth  were 
daily  prepared  there  as  before,  and  voices  were  hushed, 
and  tiny  feet  crept  on  tiptoe  when  another  slept,  for 
the  place  vacated  was  refilled  by  a  new  invalid,  Helena's 
only  brother. 

Yet  Neville's  decline  was  so  gradual,  that  the  one 
who  loved  him  most  of  all,  whose  life  was,  so  to  speak, 
bound  up  in  his,  refused  to  see  it.  If  his  cough  was 
more  wearing  and  constant  (and  it  was),  why,  that  was 
not  surprising.  It  was  winter-time,  close  on  Christmas, 
and  in  spring  it  would  be  better.  Other  people  had 
coughs  and  got  rid  of  them.  If  his  strength  for  walking 
far  was  gone,  even  when  supported  on  her  never-tiring 
arm  (and  it  was),  why,  that  was  nothing  to  be  alarmed 
at  either.  His  sedentary  habit  of  life  in  Staple  Inn, 
his  too  close  study,  had  pulled  him  down  a  little,  and 
now  that  the  weight,  the  intolerable  weight,  under 
which  he  had  laboured,  was  taken  off,  now  that  all  the 
world  knew  that  he  was  no  murderer,  no  base  assassin, 


THE   PASSING   OF   NEVILLE  275 

the  natural  elasticity  of  his  constitution  would  quickly 
re-assert  itself.  She  put  away  the  thought,  the 
doubt,  which  would  come  sometimes,  that — perhaps, 
perhaps  ?  with  indignation,  as  something  sinful.  Had 
God  raised  up  for  them  such  noble  friends,  cleared  away 
the  obstacles  in  their  path,  brought  them  so  far  on  their 
thorny  road,  to  blast  His  own  work  at  last  ?  Was  not 
the  fear  sinful,  and  bitter  wrong  to  Him.  If  that  had 
been  His  purpose,  then  why  had  He  not  left  them  both 
to  perish,  and  not  mocked  them  with  groundless  hope. 
God  forgive  her  for  even  this  shadow  of  doubt  in  His 
goodness. 

Having  reached  this  point,  Helena  would  begin  again 
to  bring  forward  further  proof  that  she  was  right, 
though  her  sinking  heart  would  sometimes  warn  her 
that  her  proofs  were  built  upon  the  sand,  even  though 
she  despised  the  warning.  Was  not  his  eye  clear  and 
bright  ?  His  brow  free  again  from  the  melancholy 
which  had  overclouded  it  ?  Had  his  smile  ever  been 
so  bright  and  sunny,  his  laugh,  though  feeble,  ever  so 
joyous  ?  Thus  she  battled  fiercely  and  ceaselessly 
with  the  doubt  in  the  faces  of  others,  and  the  doubt 
in  her  own  heart,  putting  it  away  from  her  as  if  to 
harbour  it  were  infamous. 

Ah,  how  easy  it  is  to  persuade  ourselves  that  what 
we  earnestly  desire  is  good  and  virtuous,  and  what  we 
dread,  bad  and  opposed  to  God's  will !  How  easy  it  is, 
comparatively,  to  talk  down  our  own  conscience  and 
bring  forward  a  thousand  arguments — indisputable 
arguments — to  silence  its  remonstrances.  Nay,  there 
are  some  among  us — many,  may  be — who  have,  by 
dint  of  a  course  of  rigid  discipline,  so  trained  and  cowed 
this  "  still  small  voice  "  as  to  have  reduced  it  to  the 
condition  of  a  dog,  well-accustomed  to  the  whip,  which 
wags  its  tail  when  they  approve,  and  only  dares  to 
growl  and  show  its  teeth — all  the  more  viciously  for  its 
constraint  towards  themselves — at  the  enormities  of 
others ;  or  like  a  clock  which  ticks  and  strikes  when 


276          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

they  choose  to  wind  it  up,  but  is  as  mute  and  silent  as 
the  dead  when  they  do  not ! 

It  was  a  touching,  beautiful  sight,  to  see  the  twin 
brother  and  sister  together ;  sometimes,  on  sunny 
days,  walking  arm-in-arm — not  far,  and  in  the  imme 
diate  neighbourhood  of  Minor  Canon  Corner.  Many, 
meeting  the  two  and  greeting  them  with  earnest 
cordiality — for  it  was  quite  a  matter  of  competition  as 
to  who  should  show  them  the  most  sympathy  and 
kindness — particularly  tender-hearted  women,  would 
stand  still  to  look  after  them,  as  they  moved  slowly 
forward.  "  Poor  young  things  !  "  such  a  one  would 
say,  with  her  handkerchief  or  apron  at  her  eyes, 
according  to  her  position  on  the  world's  ladder, 
"  Poor  young  things  !  " 

It  was  beautiful  to  see  them  together,  so  much  alike 
and  yet  so  different.  Both  tall,  slender,  graceful ;  the 
girl,  straighter  now,  for  her  brother  was  forced  to  stoop 
to  rest  upon  her  arm.  Both  dark-haired  and  dark- 
eyed,  with  the  same  brilliant  colouring  on  their  dusky 
cheeks.  Yet  hers  was  the  rich  colour  of  vigorous  health, 
melting  imperceptibly  back  to  the  delicate  ear  and 
rounded  throat ;  his  more  sharply  denned,  that  crimson 
tint,  so  beautiful  to  look  at,  and  yet  so  unutterably  sad ; 
that  vivid  colouring  with  which  the  most  fatal  and 
insidious  of  diseases  marks  its  victims,  like  the  red 
cross  of  the  forester  upon  the  tree  doomed  to  fall. 
She,  nourished  upon  an  inexhaustible  source  of  joy 
within  her,  growing  every  day  into  more  exquisite 
beauty,  and  ripening  in  the  sunshine  of  warmest  and 
tenderest  love,  into  the  fullness  and  richness  of  a  glorious 
womanhood  ;  he,  ripening,  too,  but  not  for  earth. 

Often,  they  would  walk  in  silence,  each  satisfied  and 
happy  in  the  society  of  the  other ;  each  indulging  in 
dreams  of  bliss  for  the  future,  bliss  springing  from 
sources  as  far  apart  as  earth  from  heaven.  Happy,  too, 
in  the  friendliness  of  all  they  met ;  in  the  beauties  of 
nature,  even  in  her  sleeping-time  ;  in  the  removal  of 


THE   PASSING   OF   NEVILLE  277 

the  heavy  cloud  which  had  darkened  their  sunshine. 
Sometimes,  they  would  talk — he  chiefly,  while  she  would 
listen.  It  was  one  of  his  chief  pleasures  to  plan  her 
future  life,  and,  with  a  glad  smile  of  comprehension  on 
his  lips,  to  tell  her,  that  he  felt  sure  that  one  so  beautiful 
and  good  would  make  a  happy  marriage,  and  live  a 
happy  life  ;  and  the  smile  would  broaden,  as  he  saw 
the  answer  to  his  unspoken  question  in  the  deepening 
of  the  colour  on  her  cheek.  Then,  he  would  speak  of 
their  dear  friends,  and  that  he  knew  they  would  be  true 
to  her  always  ;  would  compare  their  happiness  now  with 
the  desolation  of  their  childhood,  and  tell  her  never  to 
forget  that  all  God's  decrees  are  good  ;  adding  fervently, 
each  time,  how  very,  very  happy  he  was,  and  how 
devoutly  thankful.  And  when  she,  on  her  side,  would 
talk  of  his  future,  and  of  all  that  he  would  accomplish, 
when  she  would  picture  him  as  a  brilliant  and  successful 
lawyer,  reminding  him  that  there  was  nothing  now  to 
prevent  his  pursuing  his  studies  under  the  immediate 
superintendence  of  Mr.  Crisparkle,  the  kindest  and  best 
of  teachers,  he  would  be  silent ;  only  looking  up  yearn 
ingly  to  the  deep  blue  sky  ;  and  if  there  were  a  shade 
like  trouble  on  his  face,  it  was  not  on  his  own  account. 
Oh,  no  !  not  on  his  account,  only  on  hers.  After  all, 
is  it  not  a  most  merciful  dispensation,  blunting  the  edge 
of  sorrow  and  preventing  that  foreshadowing  of  it, 
which  is  the  hardest  and  most  terrible  to  bear,  that, 
where  all  around  can  see,  love  alone  is  blind  ? 

The  end  came  at  last,  as  it  often  does  in  such  cases, 
suddenly  and  unexpectedly.  Neville  had  seemed 
particularly  bright  all  day  ;  and,  as  the  weather  was 
mild  and  sunny,  he  had,  accompanied,  of  course,  by  his 
sister,  who  hardly  ever  left  him,  taken  a  few  steps,  about 
noontide,  in  the  Close.  But  he  soon  complained  of 
fatigue,  and  she  led  him  home  again. 

When  they  entered  the  little  sitting-room,  arranged 
especially  for  them,  she  noticed  how  white  and  wan 
he  looked;  and  rang  for  help.  But  before  it  arrived, 


278          A    GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

he  had  fainted  away  in  her  arms.  Assisted  by  the 
frightened  housemaid  (who  was  only  kept  back  from  a 
fit  of  hysterics  by  the  terrible  look  in  the  dark  eyes — 
a  look  of  fixed  determination,  which  repressed  her  own 
agony  in  this  dread  moment  as  decisively  as  the  foolish 
expression  of  fear  in  the  maid),  she  carried  him  to  his 
bedroom  near  at  hand,  and  laid  him  on  his  bed. 

Then,  bidding  the  girl,  in  a  hard,  authoritative 
manner,  first  inform  Mr.  Crisparkle,  and  then  fetch 
the  doctor,  she  applied  such  simple  restoratives  as  she 
had  at  hand,  with  the  precision  and  exactness  of  a 
skilful  nurse,  and  without  a  moment's  pause  for  useless 
grief.  In  a  few  minutes,  the  Minor  Canon,  as  quiet 
and  self-possessed  as  she,  was  there  to  help  her. 

Neville  opened  his  eyes  at  last,  and  turned  them 
immediately  towards  his  sister,  as  if  the  thought  of 
her  had  never  left  him  during  his  swoon,  and  concern  for 
her  was  the  only  feeling  which  he  could  entertain.  He 
was  unable  to  speak  in  the  first  moment  of  conscious 
ness,  but  the  undying  solicitude  and  love,  which  could 
only  find  expression  in  his  brilliant  orbs,  lit  with  a  new 
and  unearthly  light,  was  so  moving,  that  it  was  more 
than  Mr.  Crisparkle  or  his  mother,  who  had  hastened  to 
the  scene,  could  bear. 

But  his  sister  met  his  look  with  a  smile.  Heaven 
knows  what  it  cost  her  to  smile  at  such  a  moment,  for 
only  Heaven  knew  what  depths  of  heroism  there  were 
in  that  girlish  breast !  Even  in  mortal  agony,  worse 
than  that  of  death — for  what  was  her  life  to  his  ? — 
she  fiercely  banished  all  sign  of  it  from  her  face,  which, 
though  as  white  as  her  brother's,  looked  back  at  him 
steadily,  with  a  reassuring  smile.  To  spare  his  feelings 
at  this  supreme  moment,  she  trod  down  her  own. 

Neville's  feeble  voice  returned,  though  they  had  to 
bend  their  heads  to  hear  it ;  he  was  understood  to  express 
a  wish  to  be  left  alone  with  Mr.  Crisparkle.  Helena, 
without  a  word  or  sign  of  remonstrance,  obeyed 
instantly,  and  followed  the  weeping  china  shepherdess 


THE    PASSING   OF   NEVILLE  279 

out  of  the  room.  Then,  pale  and  rigid  as  marble,  she 
remained  standing  on  the  cold  stone  floor  of  the  little 
hall — in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of  Mrs.  Crisparkle  that 
she  would  come  into  the  drawing-room  and  warm 
herself — so  as  to  be  near  at  hand  for  the  re-summons. 

At  last  it  came.  "  Quick,  Helena."  And  she  was 
standing  by  the  bed  and  looking  down  upon  her  dying 
brother. 

For  he  was  dying.  That  look  upon  his  face  was 
unmistakable,  even  to  a  novice  in  such  matters.  Calm 
and  sweet,  but  quite  unearthly  in  its  beauty,  it  seemed 
as  if  a  reflection  of  a  light  from  above  irradiated  and 
refined  its  perfect  features  into  the  likeness  of  a  saint's. 
For  the  battle  of  life  which  he  had  fought  out  almost  to 
the  end,  though  severe,  had  been  but  short,  and  it  was 
the  dawn  of  victory. 

Mr.  Crisparkle  was  standing  beside  him,  and,  as  the 
sister  entered,  he  said,  in  a  clear,  earnest  voice,  first 
looking  at  her,  so  dear  to  them  both,  as  if  she  were 
included  in  the  promise — 

"  Depart  in  peace,  dear  boy  ;  and  may  God  do  so  to 
me,  and  more  also,  if  I  forget." 

Then  he  stooped  over  him  and  kissed  the  pale  lips 
and  forehead,  clammy  with  the  dews  of  death,  and, 
withdrawing  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  left  the  twin  sister 
alone  in  the  place  which  was  hers  of  right,  and  into 
which  no  other  dared  intrude. 

She  kissed  him,  too,  without  a  sob  or  tear,  and  knelt 
down  beside  him.  His  wondrous  eyes,  the  counterpart 
of  hers  in  form  and  colour,  settled  finally  upon  her 
loved  face,  and  remained  there,  steadfast  and  im 
movable,  full  of  undying  affection,  until  the  light  faded 
out  of  them  on  earth  for  ever,  to  be  relit  in  heaven. 

Helena  had  been  carried  out  senseless  from  the 
room,  where  the  dead  body  lay,  by  the  doctor,  who  had 
arrived  when  all  was  over,  and  laid  on  her  own  bed, 
where  she  had  been  carefully  tended  until  she  recovered 
consciousness  ;  upon  which,  she  had  turned  her  face  to 


280          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

the  wall,  still  tearless,  and  had  shown  such  an  evident 
wish  to  be  alone,  that  they  had  yielded  to  this  mute 
entreaty,  and  left  her  to  herself. 

Once  or  twice  since  then,  Rosa  had  crept  to  the  door 
of  her  room  and  listened  ;  but  hearing  no  sound,  had 
concluded  that  Nature  was  soothing  the  girl  with  her 
unfailing  narcotic,  and  that  she  had  forgotten  her  grief 
for  the  time  in  sleep. 

At  last,  Rosa,  too  anxious  and  disturbed  to  be  quite 
satisfied,  had  ventured  quietly  to  open  the  door  and 
peep  in,  when,  to  her  terror  and  dismay,  she  discovered 
that  the  bed  was  empty,  and  Helena  gone.  They  had 
sought  her  everywhere,  and  found  her  at  last  in  her 
brother's  room,  lying  upon  the  bed  where  he  lay,  and 
embracing  the  dead  body. 

Stretched  out  upon  the  bed  where  they  had  placed 
him  until  the  last  bed  was  ready,  lay  the  dead  boy,  his 
hands  folded  upon  his  breast,  as  if  in  prayer  ;  the  last 
heavenly  smile,  which  had  beamed  upon  his  sister,  still 
lingering  on  his  lips  ;  and  the  long,  black  lashes  of  the 
eyes  which  had  been  closed  after  death,  sweeping  the 
pure,  pale  cheek  ;  and,  by  his  side,  one  arm  thrown 
around  him,  and  the  other  hanging  listless  beside  her, 
lay  Helena. 

It  was  a  sight  beautiful  beyond  expression,  yet  awe- 
striking,  and  almost  terrible,  too ;  because  the  living 
part  of  the  picture  looked  so  like  death,  and  the  dead, 
with  that  sweet  smile  upon  his  face,  that  wondrous 
calm,  those  softly-folded  hands,  might  have  been  only 
sleeping,  and  dreaming  happy  dreams.  And  he  was 
only  sleeping,  although  the  radiant  eyes  would  reopen, 
not  to  time,  but  to  eternity. 

The  girl's  long  hair  had  escaped  from  the  confining 
comb,  and  fell  down,  one  thick,  dusky  mass,  around  her 
form  ;  her  face  was  as  white  and  still  as  the  face  of  the 
dead,  and  her  cheek,  pressing  his,  so  like  in  contour  and 
colour,  that  they  seemed  to  melt  into  one  another,  and 
to  be,  not  two,  but  one. 


THE   PASSING   OF    NEVILLE  281 

Yet  there  was  a  look  of  pain  and  suffering  in  her  face, 
absent  from  his,  which  was  full  of  saintly  peace  ;  and 
of  unrest  in  hers,  while  in  his  was  perfect  rest.  Yet 
notwithstanding  this  difference,  and  though  her  bosom 
rose  and  fell  slightly — the  only  token  of  life — while  his 
was  still,  they  might  have  been  supposed  by  a  casual 
observer  to  be  either  both  sleeping  or  both  dead. 

"  Helena,"  said  the  Minor  Canon,  gently,  advancing 
towards  the  bedside  and  speaking  in  a  low,  impressive 
voice,  "  get  up,  dear  girl,  and  come  to  us.  You  have 
been  taking  a  last  farewell  of  the  dead  brother — only 
gone  before,  remember  that — and  it  is  natural  and 
excusable  that  you  should  do  so  ;  but  it  must  not  last 
too  long.  It  will  injure  your  health  and  add  to  your 
grief  unnecessarily.  Get  up,  dear  girl,  and  come  to  us 
who  love  you — love  you  dearly — and  let  us  comfort 
you." 

She  had  started  at  the  sound  of  the  speaker's  voice 
— that  dear  voice  ! — and  shivered  slightly,  but  she 
remained  silent ;  only  nestling  loser  to  the  dead  brother, 
as  if  beseeching  him  to  let  her  stay  there. 

"  Helena,"  continued  the  Revd.  Septimus,  more 
emphatically  still,  and  with  a  tinge  of  reproach  in  his 
voice,  "  cannot  you,  always  so  brave,  be  brave  even 
now  ?  To  remain  where  you  are  is  impossible,  and 
must  do  you  cruel  harm.  Try  to  remember  what  the 
dear  lad  would  have  wished !  Try  to  remember  that  he 
is  not  lost,  but  only  gone  where  you,  in  the  fullness  of 
time,  will  follow  him  !  Exercise  the  noble  self-com 
mand  now,  which  you  have  shown  so  often  !  For  the 
sake  of  the  dead,  for  the  sake  of  the  living,  who  suffer, 
in  seeing  you  suffer,  rise  superior  to  this  momentary 
weakness,  I  beseech  you,  Helena  !  " 

His  appeal  was  not  without  effect,  though  without 
the  effect  he  desired.  She  did  not  attempt  to  rise  even 
yet ;  but  she  opened  her  dark  eyes  and  fixed  them  upon 
him,  as  if  to  beg  him  not  to  be  displeased  with  her,  for 
she  could  not  help  it. 


282          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

Then,  at  the  sight  of  his  troubled  face,  worn  with 
anxiety  on  her  account,  the  frozen  fount  of  her  tears 
began  to  thaw.  Slowly  creeping  out  from  under  her 
dark  lashes,  one  or  two  large  drops  rolled  down  her  face. 

Now,  Heaven  be  praised  for  this  at  least ;  the  healing 
tears  began  to  flow  !  But  that  was  not  enough  ;  the 
Minor  Canon  raised  his  voice  again,  this  time  with  a 
sternness  which  alarmed  his  mother,  and  which  she 
deemed  almost  cruel. 

But  it  was  the  physician's  skilful  hand  which  wounds 
to  heal,  and  which  dares  not  hesitate  or  shrink  from  the 
work  it  as  to  do,  because  it  must  inflict,  temporarily, 
extra  pain. 

"  This  is  not  only  weak,  Helena,"  he  began  again, 
"  but  it  is  wrong.  You  expose  yourself,  unnecessarily, 
to  danger,  and  by  so  doing,  increase  our  anxiety  a 
hundred-fold.  You  even  rob  this  room  of  its  sanctity, 
by  making  it — an  abode  of  saintly  peace — into  a  scene 
of  conflict.  By  the  authority  given  me  by  your  dead 
brother,  just  before  he  died  ;  by  the  authority  which  I 
possess  as  your  spiritual  guide  and  counsellor,  I  bid 
you  struggle  against  a  weakness  unworthy  of  you,  and 
get  up  !  I  command  you,  Helena  !  " 

He  knew  his  power  over  her  ;  he  had  not  miscalcu 
lated  the  effect  of  his  words.  His  severity,  prompted 
by  tenderest  love,  succeeded  in  controlling  her,  where  all 
persuasion  would  have  failed. 

It  gave  her  back  what  she  had  lost,  her  own  proud 
self-possession,  and,  as  if  it  were  his  indisputable  right 
to  command,  and  her,  as  indisputable,  duty  to  obey, 
she  rose  instantly,  laid  her  cheek  for  the  last  time  against 
the  cold  cheek  of  her  brother,  and  turned  to  leave  the 
room.  But,  in  the  very  act  of  doing  so,  she  stood  still, 
trembling  from  head  to  foot,  raised  her  eyes  to  his 
imploringly  as  if  beseeching  him  to  forgive  her,  for 
though  her  will  was  conquered,  her  bodily  strength 
failed,  and  she  fell,  for  the  second  time  insensible,  into 
his  outstretched  arms. 


THE   PASSING   OF   NEVILLE  283 

Carrying  her,  as  a  man  carries  his  most  precious 
treasure,  he  took  her  upstairs  to  the  room  which  she 
occupied  with  Rosa,  and  laid  her  upon  a  sofa.  Then, 
before  leaving  her  to  the  tender  care  of  his  mother,  and 
her  little  fluttering,  trembling  friend,  he  stooped  low 
over  her,  as  if  to  contemplate  once  more  her  lovely  face, 
every  outline  of  which  was  graven  on  his  heart,  and 
murmured  a  few  words,  the  purport  of  which  his 
mother  could  not  catch. 

There  were  tears  in  his  honest  blue  eyes  when  he  raised 
them  again,  and  one  had  fallen  upon  the  pale  sweet  face 
of  the  senseless  girl ;  but  they  were  tears  of  devout 
and  grateful  happiness,  for  he  knew  now  that  his  love 
— his  first  and  only  love — had  obtained  Heaven's 
sanction.  He  knew  that  she  loved  him,  this  matchless 
girl,  as  he  had  yearned  to  be  loved.  He  knew,  and 
thanked  God  for  the  knowledge,  that  no  mortal  could 
wean  away  her  affections,  or  take  her  from  him  any 
more. 


CHAPTER    XXII 

EDWIN'S  FAREWELL 

WHETHER  the  preparations  for  Edwin  Brood's  departure 
for  Egypt  occupied  more  time  than  he,  in  his  first 
resolution  to  start  at  once,  had  considered  necessary  ; 
or  whether  poor  Neville's  death  had  caused  them  to  be 
delayed,  or  whether,  finally,  anything  else  had  inter 
posed  to  retard  them,  were  open  questions.  Certain 
it  was,  however,  that  Christmas  had  come  and  gone  ; 
that  the  baby  year  had  cast  off  its  swaddling  clothes 
and  was  beginning  to  "  feel  its  legs,"  and  assert  its 
independence  ;  that,  in  a  word,  the  first  month  of  its 
existence  was  drawing  to  its  end,  and  he  was  still  in 
England.  There  were  so  many  consultations  to  be 
had  with  Mr.  Crisparkle,  whose  clear  head  and  sound 
common-sense  were  invaluable  to  him ;  there  were 
visits  to  be  paid,  and  good-byes  to  give  and  take,  and 
congratulations  to  receive  ;  there  were  endless  com 
munications  to  be  made  to  Rosa  ;  there  were,  in  short, 
a  thousand  and  one  arguments  to  be  taken  advantage 
of,  to  delay  that  last  fatal  step  of  going  away,  and 
leaving  her,  perhaps  for  ever.  For  what  chance,  what 
possible  chance,  would  remain  to  him,  to  win  once  more 
the  girl  whom  he  had  trifled  with  and  lost,  when  he  was 
far  away  in  that  distant  land  ?  And  he  loved  her 
now  with  an  intensity  of  passion,  so  intertwined  with 
every  fibre  of  his  being,  that  to  part  from  her  without 
hope  was  like  tearing  the  soul  out  of  his  body,  and  a 
mortal  agony. 

He  had  told  her  all  the  incidents  of  his  rescue,  and  of 
the  noble  woman  who  had  doubly  saved  him ;  and  she 

284 


EDWIN'S   FAREWELL  285 

had  listened  with  sweet,  sisterly  interest,  with  pity  for 
him,  and  admiration  for  her.  With  all  her  ready 
sympathy  enlisted  for  the  lonely  girl,  she  had  promised 
him  to  seek  her  out  in  London,  and  be  a  friend  to  her, 
for  his  sake.  But  when,  animated  by  her  ardour,  and 
encouraged  by  her  simple  candour,  he  had  ventured 
tremblingly  to  approach  a  step  nearer,  and  try  to  dis 
close  the  real  nature  of  his  sentiments  towards  her,  an 
invincible  dread  of  losing,  in  the  grasp  for  more,  that 
sweet  sisterly  love  which  was  so  freely  given  him,  froze 
the  words  upon  his  lips. 

But  the  dreaded  moment  of  departure  could  not  be 
postponed  for  ever,  and  the  time  came  when  no  excuse 
more  was  to  be  found  for  delay  ;  when  everything  was 
ready,  and  he  must  go.  He  had  been  spending  the  day 
in  Minor  Canon  Corner,  and  now,  as  evening  drew  on,  he 
rose  to  take  a  final  leave.  He  would  be  for  a  few  days 
in  London,  but  this  was  his  last  visit  to  Cloisterham, 
before  quitting  it  and  his  country,  possibly  never  to 
return. 

It  had  been  a  sad  day  to  all  of  them,  and  no  one 
wondered  to  see  the  tears  shining  brightly  in  Rosa's 
eyes,  as  he  held  out  his  hand  to  grasp  hers.  The  china 
shepherdess  was  weeping  too,  and  even  Helena,  whose 
own  deep,  deep  sorrow  had  only  rendered  her  more 
sympathising  than  before  with  the  woes  of  others, 
turned  aside  her  head  to  conceal  one  or  two  drops, 
which  coursed  slowly  down  her  cheek. 

"  Rosa,"  he  said,  bending  to  her  ear,  "  come  out  to 
the  garden  gate  with  me  ;  I  have  something  to  tell  you 
— something  I  must  say  to  you  before  I  go  ;  and  say  to 
you  alone." 

It  was  the  sudden  impulse  of  the  moment,  the  grasp 
of  a  drowning  man  at  a  straw.  Before  he  submitted 
to  his  fate,  and  sank  into  an  abyss  of  despair,  he  would 
make  certain  that  nothing  could  have  saved  him.  She 
turned  pale,  but  followed  him  without  a  word. 

It  was  touching  to  see — rent  and  torn  as  he  was  by 


286          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

the  vehement  struggle  within  himself — how  the  giddy, 
thoughtless  boy  of  a  year  ago,  now  thought  for  her. 
The  air  was  keen  and  frosty  out  of  doors,  and  he  seized 
a  hat  and  shawl  which  hung  in  the  little  hall,  and 
placing  the  hat  upon  her  head,  wrapped  the  shawl 
closely  round  her.  She  was  passive  in  his  hands, 
letting  him  do  as  he  would,  and  thus  they  went  out 
together.  The  others  remained  behind.  It  was  natural 
that  these  two,  so  closely  connected  from  childhood, 
and  who  had  both  suffered  so  much  from  the  same 
cause,  should  not  be  content  with  a  formal  leave-taking 
in  the  presence  of  others,  but  should  wish  to  have  a  last 
word  alone.  So,  even  that  stickler  for  propriety,  the 
discreet  china  shepherdess,  saw  them  pass  through  the 
gate  into  the  Close,  without  uneasiness  or  surprise. 

The  sun  was  setting  behind  the  house  they  had  left 
in  Minor  Canon  Corner,  and  the  whole  western  sky  was 
bright  and  glowing  from  its  parting  caress  ;  but  the 
east,  towards  which  their  faces  were  turned,  had  no 
share  in  this  glory,  and  was  sharp,  cold  and  grey, 
while  the  wind,  which  had  been  easterly  all  day,  came 
towards  them,  not  with  a  rush,  but  slowly,  as  if 
malignantly  determined  to  make  the  most  of  its 
opportunity,  and  nip  them  mercilessly. 

"  Rosa,"  said  the  young  man,  passionately,  bending 
down  over  her,  "  I  cannot  part  from  you  like  this — 
cannot,  cannot.  Have  you  no  eyes  to  see  that  the 
sisterly  affection  you  have  offered  me  is  either  too 
much,  or  infinitely  too  little  ?  Can  you  not  understand 
that  it  is  no  mild,  fraternal  affection  with  which  I 
regard  you,  but  with  that  all-powerful,  all-absorbing 
love,  which  a  man  only  feels,  only  dares  to  feel,  towards 
the  woman  he  would  make  his  wife  ?  " 

She  tried  to  speak,  but  the  words  died  away  upon 
her  lips,  and  she  only  shook  her  head  sorrowfully. 

"  It  is  unmanly,  ignoble,  mean  to  urge  you,  is  it  not  ? 
I  have  said  that  to  myself  over  and  over  again,  and 
Heaven  knows  I  meant  to  refrain.  Heaven  knows, 


EDWIN'S   FAREWELL  287 

that  up  to  this  moment,  I  meant  to  refrain.  But  it  has 
been  too  strong  for  me.  It  has  carried  me  away  with  it. 
It  is  cruel  to  extort  a  promise  from  the  woman  one 
loves,  and  hamper  her  freedom.  Heroes  in  books  can 
be  happy  in  giving  up  her  whom  they  love  to  another  ; 
but  can  men  in  real  life,  Rosa  ?  I  think,  then,  they 
cannot  love  as  I  do.  Oh,  my  darling,  my  darling ! 
give  me  a  fragment  of  hope  to  take  away  with  me  ; 
only  one  fragment  to  sustain  me  for  long  weary 
years." 

She  could  not  speak  yet,  but  her  tears  were  falling, 
and  her  head  was  bent  like  that  of  some  frail,  fair 
flower,  over  which  the  storm  wind  rages. 

"  Let  me  earn  your  love,  sweetest !  I  do  not  deserve 
it  yet,  I  know.  The  remembrance  of  the  careless 
indifference  with  which  I  treated  you,  when  I  was  a 
foolish  boy  who  did  not  know  your  worth,  is  the  bitterest 
drop  in  my  cup  of  sorrow.  Let  me  work  for  you,  prove 
myself  worthy  of  you,  if  that  be  possible ;  serve  for 
you  seven  years,  or  twice  seven  years,  if  need  be,  as 
Jacob  served  for  Rachel." 

Struggling  hard  to  subdue  her  agitation,  she  pointed 
towards  the  east,  and  said  in  a  low,  broken  voice, 
which  grew  calmer  and  more  resolute  as  she  proceeded  : 

"  There  is  your  path  before  you,  Eddy — the  plain 
path  of  duty  ;  and  mine — mine  lies  now  in  a  contrary 
direction.  Be  brave  and  patient,  even  though  it  must 
be  trodden  at  first  with  bleeding  feet ;  and  power  to 
endure  and  even  hope  will  surely  come  in  time.  We 
both  of  us  have  a  cross  to  bear  ;  oh,  brother,  brother, 
I  as  well  as  you." 

It  was  the  first  word  she  had  uttered  to  show  that  the 
future  before  her  appeared  not  quite  so  unclouded  and 
bright  as  she  would  have  had  him  believe.  Strange  to 
say,  instead  of  depressing  him,  this  avowal  seemed  to 
him  like  a  faint  hope  of  dawn. 

"  For  the  love  of  Heaven,  Rosa,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  crush  my  hopes  to  death  at  once,  or  tell  me  if  your 


288         A   GREAT  MYSTERY   SOLVED 

last  words  mean  that  I  am  not  wholly  indifferent — that 
it  might — might  be  possible " 

"  There  is  a  spot,"  she  said,  with  a  burning  blush, 
and  voice  scarcely  audible  through  her  tears,  "  where 
East  and  West  come  together  ;  perhaps — if  God  wills 
it — perhaps  we  may  meet  there  in  the  years  to  come." 

Thus  they  separated,  without  further  word  or  sign. 

He  passed  away  towards  the  East,  cold  and  grey, 
and  she  went  back  into  the  house,  behind  which  the 
sun  was  setting. 

*  *  * 

It  was — in  accordance  with  their  earnest  wish,  not 
withstanding  the  sympathetic  joy  in  it  of  all  Cloister- 
ham — a  very  quiet  wedding,  that  of  the  Revd.  Septimus 
and  Helena,  celebrated  about  nine  months  after 
Neville's  death ;  and  yet  the  springs  of  peace  and 
happiness  in  the  hearts  of  both  were  so  deep  and  clear, 
that  mirth  and  gaiety  would  have  been  incongruous, 
and  rather  diminished  than  heightened  their  perfect 
bliss. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

WHERE  EAST  AND  WEST  COME  TOGETHER 

MORE  than  five  years  have  come  and  gone  since  the 
Revd.  Septimus  and  Helena  plighted  their  troth  to 
gether  in  the  old  Cathedral.  Five  springs,  summers, 
autumns,  winters — and  spring  again.  May  has  come 
into  the  land — not  pouting,  wilful,  changeable,  bois 
terous,  like  so  many  of  her  predecessors  and  name 
sakes,  who  seem  to  have  occupied  their  precious  time 
in  a  constant  effort  to  emulate  the  wild  gambols  of 
their  elder  brother,  March,  and  were  regular  tomboys, 
wholly  undeserving  of  their  fame — but  soft,  sweet, 
smiling  through  gentle  tears ;  clothed  in  bridal  garments 
and  lovely  as  a  bride.  The  gardens  in  Cloisterham  are 
fragrant  with  the  breath  of  the  lilac  and  jessamine, 
beautiful  with  the  blossoms  of  the  pear-tree  and  the 
apple,  and  a  very  glory  to  behold.  The  birds,  intoxi 
cated  with  love,  sing  impassioned  songs  to  their  brooding 
mates,  and,  animated  by  a  spirit  of  gentle  rivalry,  seem 
each  to  strive  to  excel  the  others. 

But  no  song  of  the  birds,  nor  scent  of  the  flowers, 
appears  half  so  new  and  wonderful  to  the  Minor  Canon 
— though  he  sees  it  daily — as  the  lovely  face  of  his  wife, 
happy  and  smiling  with  pleasure,  as  she  watches  the 
gambols  of  their  children.  For  two  pair  of  little  feet 
patter  incessantly  in  the  old  house  and  in  the  old  garden 
in  Minor  Canon  Corner,  and  two  rosy  mouths  chatter 
there  the  livelong  day.  The  tears  rise  to  his  eyes  as  he 
looks  at  her  and  them,  and  wonders,  as  he  has  wondered 
many  thousand  times  before,  if  ever  man  alive  was  half 
so  happy  and  blessed  as  he.  Every  day  since  he  and 
u  289 


290          A   GREAT   MYSTERY    SOLVED 

she  became  one,  he  has  learned — he  thinks  so — learned 
to  love  her  better,  honour  her  more,  reverence  her  more 
completely  as  his  better  angel.  And  when  the  prattle 
of  the  children  is  hushed  in  sleep,  and  he  stands  beside 
their  cots,  with  his  wife's  dear  hand,  clasped — ah,  so 
tenderly  ! — in  his,  their  soft  breathing  seems  to  him  to 
sanctify  the  old,  loved  home,  and  make  it  more  like 
heaven. 

Grandmamma  is  a  stationary  guest  in  Minor  Canon 
Corner,  and  (in  confidence)  she  probably  always  will 
remain  so.  Yet  there  are  times  and  seasons  (particu 
larly  at  such  periods,  when  the  more  judicious  love  of  the 
parents  interposes  a  slight  impediment  to  the  unlimited 
spoiling  of  the  laddies)  when  she  declares  it  her  irre 
vocable  resolution  to  retire  into  some  cottage  in  the 
neighbourhood  and  bury  her  diminished  head  there. 
She  sometimes  even  goes  so  far  as  to  insist  on  her  Sept 
(the  big  one)  taking  immediate  steps  to  bring  about  this 
catastrophe  ;  for  of  course  now  that  little  Neville  and 
little  Sept  have  grown  into  such  sturdy  urchins,  there 
oughtn't  to  be — and  isn't — room  for  her  any  more. 
But  this  is  a  joke  ;  she  would  pine  to  death  without  her 
darlings  ;  and  as  for  the  children — why,  the  merest  hint 
of  a  possibility  that  grandma  ever  could,  or  would,  go 
away,  is  sure  to  elicit  such  heartrending  and  despairing 
howls,  that  she  has  more  than  enough  to  do  to  pacify 
them,  forgetting,  in  so  doing,  her  baleful  intentions. 
Indeed,  this  threat,  like  the  old  imaginary  rod,  the 
only  one  in  Minor  Canon  Corner,  is,  when  judiciously 
made  use  of,  never  known  to  fail,  as  a  corrective  for 
the  children.  If  first-born  Neville  (a  child  of  earnest 
nature  and  strong  passions)  falls  into  a  fit  of  childish 
rage,  which  sometimes  still  occurs,  though  the  holy 
restraint  of  love  is  working  wonderfully,  the  warning, 
that  dear  grandma's  head  cannot  stand  that,  will 
check  him  instantly.  If  baby  Sept,  a  born  scapegrace, 
wanders  beyond  bounds,  heedless  of  mamma's  gentle 
command,  the  mere  question — what  would  grand- 


EAST   AND   WEST   COME   TOGETHER     291 

mamma  say  ?  brings  a  flood  of  penitent  tears,  and  an 
eager  assurance  of  "  never  doing  it  again."  The  Revd. 
Septimus  says  on  such  occasions,  or  when  reference  is 
made  to  the  cottage,  that  he  can't  afford,  any  way,  to 
part  with  grandmamma,  for  she  is  worth  her  weight  in 
gold,  in  bringing  up  the  children.  And  Helena  says 
nothing,  only  lays  her  soft  arm  round  the  old  lady's 
neck,  and  rests  her  dark  head  upon  her  shoulder ;  and  it 
is  noticeable  that  this  silent  appeal  is  more  effective 
in  silencing  the  china  shepherdess,  than  any  reasoning 
on  the  part  of  her  son. 

Mr.  Sapsea  is  no  longer  Mayor  of  Cloisterham.  His 
renown  had  never  recovered  the  shock  it  had  sustained, 
and  his  after-dinner  fears  had  proved  but  too  fatally 
prophetic.  He  was  not  re-elected. 

The  Nuns'  House  is  also  presided  over  by  another 
than  Miss  Twinkleton,  who  has,  in  point  of  law,  ceased 
to  exist,  for  she  has  become  Mrs.  Sapsea. 

She  and  her  conjugal  partner  partake  together  of 
beef,  backgammon  and  salad  in  the  evening  ;  that  is  to 
say,  when  the  lady  chooses  to  do  so.  There  is  only  one 
master  in  the  ancestral  home  of  the  auctioneer,  and  that 
is  not  Mr.  Sapsea.  And  though  a  vast  deal  of  looking 
up  takes  place  there  daily,  the  devout  worshipper  is 
not  Mrs.  Sapsea,  nie  Twinkleton.  On  the  contrary, 
malignant  tongues  assert  that  she  takes  little  trouble 
to  disguise  the  fact  that  she  looks  down  upon  him.  But 
she  allows  no  one  to  imitate  her  example,  and  though 
the  discipline  with  which  she  rules  him  is  unbending 
and  inexorable,  she  cares  for  his  bodily  wants,  takes 
him  out  to  walk  with  her,  pours  him  out  his  allowance 
of  wine,  mixes  his  grog  with  judicious  hand  (not  too 
strong),  and  performs  her  duty  towards  him — though 
rather  as  a  stern  mother  than  a  wife.  He  is  not  un 
happy  on  the  whole,  and  has  become,  in  a  wonderfully 
short  space  of  time,  the  meekest  of  the  meek. 

Only  one  thing  seriously  troubles  him,  to  wit,  that  his 
wife  has  put  her  veto  on  his  dressing  like  the  Dean. 


292         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

She  is  not  going  to  let  him  make  a  fool  of  himself,  she 
tells  him,  emphatically ;  and  when  Mrs.  Sapsea,  n&e 
Twinkleton,  speaks  emphatically,  no  "  young  lady  " 
in  the  Nuns'  House  was  ever  more  easily  quelled  than 
he  is  now.  He  knows,  by  experience,  how  sharp  and 
cutting  are  the  twigs  of  that  rod  in  pickle,  and  how 
dexterously  and  mercilessly  Mrs.  Sapsea,  nie  Twinkle- 
ton,  knows  how  to  wield  it.  Yet,  in  spite  of  this,  or, 
perhaps,  in  consequence  of  this,  he  considers,  and  looks 
up  to,  his  wife  as  a  most  remarkable  woman  ;  and  so 
she  is. 

Mr.  Tartar  has  not  forgotten  Rosa.  The  memory  of 
her  beauty,  and  the  love  he  bore  her,  can  never  be 
blotted  from  his  mind,  and  he  cannot  hear  her  name, 
or  think  of  her  without  emotion,  even  yet.  But  he  does 
not  make  her  a  topic  of  conversation  with  the  charming 
little  lady  whom  the  world  calls  "  Mrs.  Tartar,"  and  he 
calls  "  my  wife."  Upon  this  subject  his  mouth  is 
closed,  and  it  is  just  possible  that  the  theme  might  fail 
to  interest  Mrs.  Tartar,  or  interest  her  far  too  much. 
He  prefers  not  to  risk  it,  therefore.  But  his  little 
daughter,  who  came  into  the  world  with  the  snowdrops, 
and  now,  in  this  bright  May-time,  is  just  three  months 
old,  bears  the  name  of  Rosa,  added  to  that  of  her 
mother,  because  he  thinks  it  the  second  prettiest  name 
in  the  world ;  and  happy  Mrs.  Tartar  little  imagines 
how,  once,  he  thought  it  far  the  prettiest.  The  old 
rapturous  dream,  the  awakening  from  which  caused  him 
such  bitter  agony,  has  faded  into  a  sweet  and  tender 
memory.  Time  has  healed  his  wounds,  as  it  heals  the 
wounds  of  all. 

Lobley's  sole  occupation  and  daily  delight  is  to  carry 
little  Miss  Tartar  about  in  his  brawny  arms,  sing  her 
old  wild  sea  songs,  spin  for  her  endless  yarns  (not  one 
word  of  which  she  can  understand)  and  pour  out  praises 
of  the ' '  Capting ' '  into  her  unheeding  ears.  She  exhibits 
at  present  (though  Lobley  prophesies  no  end  of  accom 
plishments  for  the  future)  only  two  faculties  with  any 


EAST   AND   WEST   COME   TOGETHER     293 

degree  of  distinctness,  viz.,  a  remarkable  aptitude  for 
imbibing  her  natural  nourishment,  and  a  still  more 
remarkable  aptitude  for  rending  the  air  with  her  cries. 

Lobley  considers  these  two  performances  as  some 
thing  almost  supernatural,  and  signs  of  an  unheard-of 
intelligence. 

"  Listen,"  he  exclaims,  delighted,  holding  up  his 
hand  to  still  all  other  sound  which  might  impede  his 
enjoyment,  "  that  'ere  blessed  leetle  chicking  is  a 
piping  again  !  Ain't  it  wonderful  ?  " 
*  Pretty  Rosa's  plan  of  living  with  her  guardian,  and 
keeping  house  for  him  as  his  little  daughter,  has  been 
carried  out  long  ago.  Mr.  Grewgious  had  chosen  the 
sweetest  little  house  in  the  most  charming  of  neighbour 
hoods,  and,  assisted  by  Rosa,  had  furnished  it  to  a 
miracle. 

Among  other  necessary  articles  of  furniture,  there  is 
the  nicest  of  old  ladies,  who,  in  addition  to  being 
possessed  of  all  the  cardinal  virtues,  is  stone-deaf. 
This  is  convenient,  because  they  so  often  talk  of  Eddy  in 
Egypt  that,  if  she  could  hear,  it  might  weary  her.  They 
wonder,  in  the  evenings,  whether  he  will  ever  pay  them 
his  promised  visit.  They  wonder  (Rosa,  with  rising 
tears  in  her  eyes,  which  she  wouldn't  have  her  guardian 
see  for  the  world)  whether  he  thinks  and  talks  of  them 
as  much  as  they  do  of  him.  They  are  sure  he  does  not. 
Rosa  is  vehemently  certain,  he  does  not,  and  that  it 
would  be  preposterous  to  think  he  did  ;  of  course,  he  has 
more  important  and  more  interesting  matters  to  occupy 
his  attention. 

They  discuss  the  probability  of  his  bringing  a  wife 
with  him.  Mr.  Grewgious,  screwing  up  his  eyes  in  the 
endeavour  to  ascertain  if  that  is  really  a  tear  on  Rosa's 
eyelash,  is  doubtful  about  this,  and  shakes  his  head. 
Rosa  shakes  her  head,  too,  but  only  in  vigorous  denial 
of  his  unspoken  thought.  Of  course  the  dear  fellow  will 
marry,  and  what  a  welcome  they  will  prepare  for  the 
new  sister  1  How  dearly  she  will  love  her  !  Rosa  is 


294         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

conscious  that  her  voice  is  unsteady,  yet  strives  in  vain 
to  steady  it.  Mr.  Grewgious  thinks  all  women  are 
enigmas,  even  his  own  little  darling. 

Rosa  stirs  the  sluggish  fire,  addresses  a  few  words  to 
the  deaf  old  lady  on  the  sofa,  who  smiles  and  nods, 
although  totally  ignorant  of  their  import,  and  they 
begin  again  to  talk  about  his  letters.  What  nice  letters 
they  were — simple,  open-hearted,  manly !  Nothing  on 
earth  would  have  induced  Rosa  to  hint  that  she  thinks 
them  a  trifle  cold,  particularly  that  invariable  ending, 
"  Your  affectionate  brother,  Edwin." 

She  had  bid  him  remain  her  brother,  and  now  she 
is  hurt,  angry,  mortified  that  he  does  her  bidding.  She 
had  warned  him  to  approach  no  nearer,  and  now  her 
heart  sinks  low  because  he  does  not  cast  her  warning  to 
the  wind.  An  enigma  ?  She  and  all  her  sex  ?  Yes, 
truly,  not  only  to  Mr.  Grewgious,  but  to  her  own 
puzzled  heart ! 

He  is  prospering  in  Egypt.  They  hear  that,  not 
from  himself,  but  from  other  sources ;  he  has  risen 
every  year  higher  in  his  profession,  has  become  the 
mainstay  of  the  firm,  has  largely  increased  its  sphere  of 
action,  and  is  respected  and  looked  up  to  on  every  hand. 

He  has  proved  himself  a  true,  brave  man  to  the 
backbone,  and,  in  so  far,  fulfilled  his  promise  of  showing 
himself  worthy  of  a  woman's  love. 

But  he  has  given  no  sign.  Not  one.  Surely,  surely, 
if  it  had  been  for  love  of  her,  he  would  not,  and  could 
not  sign  himself  for  five  long  years,  "  Your  affectionate 
brother."  That  had  been  a  passing  dream,  and  he  had 
awakened,  in  the  distant  land,  to  other  hopes,  and  other 
desires. 

Yet  this  reticence  does  not  repulse,  but  draws  her 
heart  to  him,  as  powerfully,  as  irresistibly  as  a  magnet 
attracts  iron.  No  passionate  pleading  could  have 
gained  her  love  as  surely  as  this. 

The  deaf  •*  old r  lady,  whose  eyes  have  been  fixed 
longingly  on  the  clock  for  the  last  quarter  of  an  hour, 


EAST   AND   WEST   COME   TOGETHER     295 

rises  at  the  moment  when  the  hands  point  to  ten,  kisses 
Rosa  good-night,  curtseys  Mr.  Grewgious  a  parting 
salute,  and  retires  to  bed. 

Rosa  throws  her  arms  round  her  guardian's  neck, 
rising  on  tiptoe  to  do  it,  rests  her  bright  head  one 
moment  on  his  faithful  breast,  then  kisses  him  a  dozen 
times,  and,  taking  her  candle,  follows  the  old  lady's 
example.  Mr.  Grewgious,  glorified  by  the  kisses, 
remains  behind  with  a  radiant  face. 

Presently,  still  smiling,  but  thoughtful,  too,  he  begins 
softly  to  pace  up  and  down  the  pleasant  room,  filled 
with  a  hundred  tokens  of  its  sunbeam. 

There,  on  a  chair  in  the  corner,  lies  a  tiny  glove, 
and,  dangling  by  its  ribbons,  a  broad-brimmed  garden 
hat.  On  the  work-table  in  the  bay  window  stands  her 
work-basket  still,  filled  to  the  brim  and  running  over, 
with  sewing  for  the  poor  children  whom  she  has  hunted 
up  ;  and,  on  the  floor,  lies  her  thimble.  The  book  in 
which  she  has  been  reading  reposes  on  its  face,  where 
she  threw  it  down,  on  hearing  his  well-known  footstep, 
to  run  and  meet  him. 

The  piano  is  still  open,  with  the  notes  upon  it  of  the 
song  which  her  sweet  voice  sang  to  him  that  evening. 
Little,  heedless,  careless  thing  !  He  must  take  her  to 
task.  Point  out  to  her  the  beauty  of  order.  Seriously 
take  her  to  task. 

He  says  he  will,  but  he  knows  he  will  not.  In  his 
office  reigns  an  order,  complete  and  perfect.  A  scrap 
of  paper  in  the  wrong  place,  a  bit  of  tape  upon  the 
floor,  would  worry  him  to  death  there.  His  clerks 
know  him  for  an  indulgent  master  in  all  other  respects, 
but  in  this  he  is  stiff-backed  and  hard  as  iron. 

Yet  here,  in  this  room,  he  would  not  have  it  different. 
No  room,  swept  and  garnished,  could  be  half  so  pleasant 
to  him,  as  this  one,  all  alive  with  her  memory.  Her 
pretty  carelessness,  her  dainty  disorder,  is  a  thousand 
times  sweeter  to  him  than  the  most  supreme  carefulness 
of  another. 


296          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

And  yet — and  yet !  He  only  has  the  treasure 
entrusted  to  him,  to  guard  it  for  the  real  owner,  when  he 
comes  to  claim  it.  He  knows  that ;  he  would  not  have 
it  otherwise.  He  would  not  have  it  otherwise  !  When 
its  preciousness  is  most  apparent  to  him,  and  he 
values  it  at  its  highest,  he  says  that  to  himself  with 
an  unfaltering  voice. 

Many  have  coveted  and  stretched  out  eager  hands 
to  take  it,  but  Mr.  Right  (as  Mr.  Grewgious  says 
jokingly)  was  not  among  them.  Till  he  comes,  he  will 
guard  it.  When  he  comes,  he  will  give  it  up  with  a 
joyful  heart,  and  be  happy  in  the  consciousness  of 
having  done  his  duty,  and  kept  the  treasure  bright. 

He  has  taken  her  with  him  to  the  opera,  the  theatre, 
and  other  places  of  amusement,  in  the  winter  ;  hearing 
nothing  of  the  music,  seeing  nothing  of  the  acting,  or 
the  gay  throng  around,  for  delight  in  her  delight ;  and 
finding  pleasure  and  joy  enough  in  the  sight  of  her 
brightening  face. 

He  has  taken  her  with  him  to  the  sea-side  in  the 
summer,  or  among  the  mountains,  suffering  martyrdom 
in  boats,  or  upon  the  backs  of  stubborn  mules,  yet  more 
than  repaid,  when  her  silvery  laugh  rang  out  clear  and 
untroubled.  To  make  her  happy — he  is  happy  to 
know  it — is  his  daily  thought,  his  daily  endeavour. 

At  last,  he,  too,  goes  to  bed,  treading  softly  not  to 
disturb  her  slumbers,  and  troubled  somewhat  still 
with  the  fear,  which  his  short-sighted  eyes  had  not 
been  able  to  settle  definitely,  that  that  had  been  a  tear 
upon  her  eyelash. 

But  Rosa  is  not  slumbering.  Her  candle  is  out,  and 
her  room  dark  and  quiet,  yet  the  thought  of  Eddy  is 
with  her  in  the  solitude,  and  though  her  head  rests  upon 
the  pillow,  she  is  thinking  of  him  still — wondering  still, 
if  those  last  foolish  words  of  hers  were  understood  by 
him  :  "  Where  East  and  West  come  together."  She 
would  die  of  shame  if  she  did  feel  sure  that  they  were 
long  forgotten.  Why  can  she  not  forget  him,  as  she 


EAST   AND   WEST   COME   TOGETHER     297 

has  forgotten  others  ?  Is  this  love — this  yearning 
longing  to  see  him  once  more,  touch  him,  hear  his  voice  ? 
If  he  should  call  her — only  write,  "  Rosa,  come,"  she 
would — she  knew  she  would — hasten  on  foot,  if  need  be, 
to  go  to  him  at  his  bidding.  But  he  does  not  want  her 
any  more  ;  she  has  expected  too  much  from  him,  and 
has  lost  all.  Otherwise  he  would  have  given  some  sign 
all  these  long  years.  Oh,  why  has  she  learned  to 
comprehend  her  own  heart,  too  late  !  Oh,  Eddy, 
Eddy,  Eddy! 

The  last  letter  from  Egypt  had  been  written  a  long 
time  back,  and  even  this  comfort  seems  likely  to  be 
taken  from  her.  As  day  after  day  goes  by,  and  no 
news  comes,  she  tries  to  brace  herself  for  a  still  further 
trial,  and  not  even  Mr.  Grewgious  guesses  what  the 
effort  costs  her.  Her  high  courage  rises  to  the  cruel 
task  of  struggling  against  a  passionate  longing,  and  she 
will  not  yield  an  inch.  Thousands  of  men  and  women 
live  and  are  happy  without  that  love,  and  so  will  she. 

One  morning,  when  May  is  far  advanced,  and  through 
the  open  windows,  leading  on  to  the  lawn,  sloping 
gently  towards  the  river,  came  the  heavy  perfumes  of 
the  lilac  and  the  jessamine,  syringa  and  hawthorn,  she  is 
startled  out  of  a  little  reverie  by  the  entrance  of  a  maid, 
announcing  a  visitor. 

The  old  lady  is  snoozing  peacefully  on  the  sofa, 
dreaming,  perhaps,  of  the  days  when  she  too  was  young, 
and  Mr.  Grewgious  is  absent  at  his  office,  in  Staple  Inn. 
Rosa  bids  the  maid  show  the  visitor  into  the  room 
adjoining. 

"  A  gentleman,  Susan  ?     Did  he  ask  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  miss.  For  master,  first ;  and  when  I  said  he 
was  not  at  home,  for  Miss  Bud." 

With  the  natural  wish  of  a  woman,  old  or  young,  to 
appear  to  the  best  possible  advantage  before  a  member 
of  the  opposite  sex,  Rosa,  with  innocent  and  unconscious 
coquetry,  smoothes  her  glossy  hair,  shakes  out  the  folds 
of  her  simple  muslin  dress,  and  re-arranges  the  ribbon 


298          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

on  her  bosom ;  then,  with  a  soft  step,  she  opens  the 
door  of  the  next  room — the  sedate  little  mistress  of  the 
house — to  welcome  the  visitor. 

She  catches  a  glimpse  of  a  manly,  tall,  upright  form, 
as  yet  unconscious  of  her  presence,  standing  looking  out 
into  the  pretty  garden,  and  on  the  green  soft  lawn, 
dotted  with  flower  beds,  and  shaded  by  trees,  clothed 
in  the  first  freshness  of  the  summer.  Perhaps,  oh, 
perhaps,  he  is  the  bearer  of  news  from  Eddy  ! 

He  had  heard  her  footfall,  and  turns  to  greet  her. 
Her  grave  salute  is  arrested  as  she  returns  his  look,  her 
heart  begins  to  beat  rapidly,  her  cheeks  pale,  and  she 
stands  still  trembling.  For,  changed  as  he  is  once  more, 
she  knows  her  brother — more  dearly  loved  than  any 
brother — and  she  knows  not  his  mission.  Oh,  Eddy, 
Eddy,  Eddy ! 

Not  one  word  issues  from  her  trembling  lips,  and  not 
one  word  from  his.  He  is  as  agitated  as  she.  She  sees 
how  eagerly  and  anxiously  he  scans  her  face,  how 
searchingly  he  tries  to  penetrate  to  her  thoughts,  if  that 
be  possible — sees  it  through  her  gathering  tears.  Then 
he  opens  his  arms  wide  to  receive  her,  and  she  goes  into 
his  embrace,  as  a  weary  wanderer,  long  outcast  in 
foreign  lands,  and  sick  with  longing  for  the  Fatherland, 
enters  into  his  home. 

They  have  been  sitting  together  for  a  short  time, 
silent  with  a  rapturous  silence  more  eloquent  than  any 
words,  when  Rosa  at  last,  with  a  sigh  of  deep  content, 
raises  her  head  from  its  resting-place. 

Through  the  open  window  come  the  sweet  sounds 
and  scents  from  the  garden,  beautiful  with  the  untarn 
ished  brightness  and  glory  of  the  spring.  The  insects 
hum,  the  birds  twitter  and  sing,  the  water  bubbles  and 
murmurs,  and  all  seem  to  the  two  within  to  be  talking 
of  nothing  but  love. 

A  little  spaniel — Rosa's  pet — comes  barking  into  the 
room,  full  of  indignation  against  the  usurper  ;  but  even 
he  cannot  withstand  the  prevailing  influence,  grows 


EAST   AND    WEST   COME   TOGETHER     299 

amicable  and  friendly,  and  after  sniffing  round  the 
stranger,  crouches  down  satisfied  at  his  feet.  Rosa 
laughs  as  she  pats  him. 

"  Ah,  poor  Netta !  Your  nose  is  out  of  joint,  my  pet, 
but  you  must  live  and  bear  it."  Then,  glancing  shyly 
at  her  lover :  "  How  handsome  you  have  grown,  Eddy, 
dear !  " 

"  Don't  say  that,  my  darling,  or  I  must  return  the 
compliment,  and  if  I  once  begin  in  that  line,  I'm 
afraid  I  shall  never  stop,  and  you  wouldn't  like  it." 

"  No,  don't  Eddy !  But  (nestling  closer  to  him) 
I  am  glad  that  you  like  me." 

"  And  I  am  glad,  my  precious,  so  devoutly  thankful, 
that  you  like  me." 

"  I  do  like  you,  Eddy." 

He  stoops^  down  to  thank  her,  with  a  fervent  kiss. 
As  his  eyes  rest  upon  her  lovely  face,  flushed  with 
happiness,  he  records  a  solemn  vow  to  devote  his  life  to 
make  her  happy,  and  prove  to  her  how  he  values  her 
love. 

"  No,  Eddy,  dear.  Love  me  as  much  as  you  can,  for 
I  am  quite  insatiable  for  that ;  but  don't  spoil  me  or 
pet  me  too  much.  Scold  me  when  I  deserve  it.  Put  me 
down  when  I  forget  my  place.  Help  me  to  be  good, 
for  I  am  weak,  and  want  a  strong  hand  to  check  and 
guide  me.  Be  sure,  Eddy,  that  I  shall  not  love  you 
one  bit  the  less  if  your  hand  be  firm  as  well  as  kind." 

For  answer,  he  clasps  her  to  his  heart,  and  holds  her 
there  with  a  passionate  pressure.  They  are  silent  for 
a  space  again.  His  heart  is  too  full  of  fervent  gratitude 
to  speak.  The  long  years  of  working  and  waiting 
appear  as  nothing  when  weighed  against  the  supreme 
happiness  of  this  moment. 

"  Eddy,"  says  Rosa,  raising  her  face  wistfully,  "  will 
you  tell  me  something  ?  " 

"  If  I  can,  my  own  !  " 

"  Did  you  ever  try  to  guess,  Eddy,  who  it  was  who 
saved  me  ?  " 


300         A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

"  Saved  you,  Rosa  ?  " 

"  Saved  me  from  drowning,  Eddy,  when,  but  for  him, 
I  should  have  perished  miserably.  When,  but  for  his 
noble  self-forgetfulness,  I  should  have  died  in  the  arms 
of "  She  stops,  shuddering. 

"  I  have  never  tried  to  guess,  my  sweet. " 

She  looks  at  him  eagerly  and  enquiringly,  with  a 
flush,  almost  of  impatience,  on  her  face.  His  eyes  sink 
beneath  her  searching  gaze,  not  with  shame,  but  with 
a  proud  delight. 

"  Because  you  knew,  Eddy.  Because  I  know  you 
know.  Oh,  tell  me,  tell  me." 

"  Darling,  it  was  I." 

"  I  was  sure  of  it,"  she  says,  with  a  flushing  face 
"  All  the  time  I  was  ill  I  seemed  to  know  it ;  yet  when 
I  came  to  myself  I  thought  (how  could  I  think  other 
wise  ?)  that  it  was  a  phantom  of  my  imagination. 
When  you  were  found,  it  came  back  to  me  again, 
with  more  certainty  than  ever,  but  I  was  ashamed  to 
speak,  because  you  were  silent.  Why  were  you  silent, 
Eddy  ?  " 

"  My  darling,  I  would  not  have  had  you  know 
then  for  all  that  earth  could  give  me  ;  no,  not  even  to 
win  you,  yourself.  I  would  not  have  advanced  a  claim 
upon  you,  or  striven  to  purchase,  as  it  were,  the  blessing 
of  your  love,  which,  unspeakably  as  I  longed  for  it,  I 
could  and  would  only  accept  as  a  free  gift.  I  knew  your 
generous  heart,  my  Rosa !  I  feared  a  noble  self- 
sacrifice.  The  thought  that  it  might  be  that,  and  not 
love,  would  have  been  a  source  of  misery.  And, 
besides,  it  was  purest  accident,  or  rather  the  boundless 
mercy  of  God,  which  led  me  to  the  spot  in  time." 

"  Oh,  I  love  you,  I  love  you,  Eddy  !  " 

He  clasps  her  to  his  heart  again.  Then  they  sit 
silent  once  more,  until  he  speaks  at  last,  in  answer  to 
her  questioning  look. 

"  Yes,  my  precious  !  you  have  a  right  to  know  now, 
and  you  shall.  I  had  long  feared  and  watched,  on  your 


EAST  AND   WEST  COME   TOGETHER     301 

account,  that  miserable  man.  I  tracked  him  on  the 
road  to  Cloisterham,  and  followed  him,  dreading  that 
his  mission  there  meant  danger  to  you.  But  he  was 
fleeter  of  foot  than  I,  and  distanced  me.  Nevertheless, 
I  went  on  to  the  city,  and  meeting  some  whom  I  had 
known,  and  who  regarded  me,  as  I  fancied,  with 
suspicious  looks,  I  grew  alarmed  on  my  own  account, 
and,  terrified  at  the  thought  of  detection,  went  down 
to  the  river,  wandering  along  its  bank  until  I  was  far 
away  again.  I  thought  of  you,  and  of  the  times  we  had 
walked  there  together,  and  forgot  time  and  all  else  in 
the  bitter  sorrow  at  the  remembrance  of  how  I  had 
trifled  with  your  affection.  On  my  return,  I  heard  a 
splash  in  the  water,  and  a  cry  for  help.  I  did  not  know 
whom  I  was  going  to  save,  when  I  sprang  in." 

"  My  noble  Eddy  !  "  She  can  scarce  say  it  through 
her  tears. 

"  So  you  see,  my  bird  !  (he  draws  her  closer  to  him 
as  he  speaks)  that  you  have  no  reason  to  feel  grateful 
to  me  at  all,  for  I  did  not  know  that  it  was  you.  It 
was  well  I  did  not !  for  when  I  found  out  whose  bright 
hair  I  was  twining  round  my  hand,  when  I  saw  your 
loved  face,  cold  and  still  in  the  moonlight,  though  I 
strove  hard  to  strike  out  for  the  shore,  my  feelings 
overcame  me,  and  I  lost  consciousness.  So  it  was 
Mr.  Crisparkle  who  saved  you,  and  not  I." 

"  He,  too,"  she  says,  "  and  I  am  grateful  to  him  ; 
but  for  all  your  trying  to  pretend  it  wasn't,  it  was  you 
also  :  and  I  am  so  glad  to  be  alive — so  glad  to  know, 
Eddy,  what  happiness  really  means — so  glad  to  be  able 
to  give  you  back  my  life,  until  I  die." 

Mr.  Grewgious  misses  the  waiting  little  figure  at  the 
door  when  he  comes  home,  and  is  surprised  to  find 
himself  only  admitted  by  the  maid,  whose  triumphant 
yet  commiserating  face  "  speaks  volumes."  But  when 
he  enters  the  drawing-room  to  look  for  her,  he  under 
stands  the  cause.  They  are  still  sitting,  hand  in  hand, 
together.  For  a  moment  a  shadow,  like  a  mist,  blots 


302          A   GREAT   MYSTERY   SOLVED 

them  out  from  the  old  man's  gaze  ;  then  the  sun  of  a 
pure,  unselfish  affection  swallows  it  up,  and  he  comes 
forward  gently  to  lay  his  hands  in  blessing  on  the  head 
of  the  son  whom  he  has  found,  and  the  daughter  (he 
sees  it  in  her  loving  eyes)  whom  he  will  never  lose,  for 
Mr.  Right  has  come  at  last,  and  All  is  right. 


THE  END 


THE  LONDON  AND  NORWICH  PRESS,  LTD.,  LONDON  AND  NORWICH 


RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

TO— »•     202  Main  Library 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1 -month  loans  may  be  renewed  toy  calling  642-3406 

l-year  loans  may  t>e  recharged  by  bringing  me  books  to  the  Circulation  Desk 
and  recharges  m*y  be  mode  4  days  prior  to  due  date 


DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

RECEIVED  BY 

JjjL     ft  19RS 

f  IPCULATIQN  DEPTi. 

HOT-            J 

OCT  2  8  TB86 

AUTO.  Dl|sc. 

KOV  0  2  tj)86 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 

FORM  NO.  DD6,  60m,  1/83  BERKELEY,  CA  94720 

®$ 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


BODDSlbSMD 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


